


It's A Long Way Down

by veegirl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Politics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Enemies to Lovers, Equal Marriage, Gay Marriage, Hate to Love, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, LGBT Activist Harry, Light D/s, Light Spanking, M/M, More plot than porn, Politician Louis, Rimming, Same-Sex Marriage, Smut, This is NOT PWP, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6136414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veegirl/pseuds/veegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s June 2013, and the legalization of gay marriage is the most discussed political issue in the country. As a member of parliament Louis Tomlinson has decided to do everything under his power to keep marriage between a man and a woman. Little does he know a boy with green eyes and pink lips from his past is on a mission to change his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Please note that my knowledge of how the British parliament actually works is very limited, since I’m not British. That being said, don’t be too scared of the prospect of politics in this fic; you don’t have to know much about politics to understand this. Also, my apologies to anyone who does understand politics and has to suffer from my lack of knowledge. Please do tell me, if you find some crucial mistakes in the text! This is un-betad, so all mistakes are my own. (Also, this story is set in June/July 2013, the time right before gay marriage was legalized in the UK. That’s probably the only thing in this fic that has some kind of historical accuracy attached to it.)
> 
> Warnings: Do not read, if there’s a chance you are not comfortable with the homophobic views some of the characters of this story represent. In later chapters there will be graphic descriptions of consensual sex with BDSM undertones. I’ll add warnings to the beginnings of those chapters, if I feel like that is needed.
> 
> Disclaimer: While including characters based on the personas of real, existing persons, this story is a work of fiction and is absolutely not meant to imply anything about these persons, their lives, personalities, sexualities, relationships, opinions, or anyone connected to them.
> 
> Title (rather obviously) from Long Way Down by One Direction.
> 
> Here's a playlist of some songs I listened to while writing this story:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZT_skmohD-c&list=PLyOzRqyaQyIHO_PyMyb0KwN82WPI9UyqP

 

 

Being gay isn’t a choice. That’s what they always said. That’s what _he_ always said.

  
And the thing is, maybe he wasn’t so wrong. Maybe being gay isn’t a choice, at least not a conscious one. Or maybe it just isn’t a choice, because such thing as ‘being gay’, does not exist. Being gay is a construction of a mind, a mind you can’t touch or feel. Just like all your thoughts, what you call a ‘mind’ in an everyday conversation. It’s just a construction, breakable.

  
_Louis is breakable._

  
He stretched his legs in front of him and sunk into the light coloured cushions of the too new, too stiff sofa with a quiet, deep sigh. Leaning his elbow on the high armrest, he kept his eyes on the television screen positioned high on the wall upon the entrance doorway of the small office lounge.

  
The boy with serene green eyes (like a shadowed summer day hidden in a forgotten grove with only small slivers of golden sunlight giving parts of the leaves and branches a bright, joyful shimmer) had grown out his dark brown curls into a wild mess.

  
The wind tried to bring the curls onto his face, but the boy – the man? – just shook his head and set a small smile on his lips. His lips were the color of roses, how did he even do that. Louis wouldn’t have been surprised to find out he used lip-gloss or some other product just as girly and unsettling.

  
None of his business, though.

  
He looked different from how Louis remembered him. Louis didn’t want to remember him, but he did. The boy with the curls, green eyes and pink, pink lips. Chubby cheeks had turned into a strong jawline, the kind that only a _man_ could possess. There was a bit of a frown between his brows, like this was a serious matter, like they were adults. This was a serious matter, and they were adults.

  
But Harry was wrong about so many things. If only he knew everything that Louis knew.

  
Whatever. It didn’t matter. Probably.

  
“Equal marriage is a huge step towards equal rights between all different groups of people,” Harry said on the screen, talking to the interviewer who was standing outside of the picture.

  
Louis couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little. Partially to what Harry was saying, partially to the way he spoke so slowly. How could this snail tongue of a man be the most apparent face of the LGBT community, the leading figure of the organization trying to ruin one more thing in the world that had been just fine without their interference?

  
He bit his thumbnail and continued glaring at the screen as Harry continued talking.

  
“It wouldn’t be a step forwards for only homosexuals, but also people of all other sexualities. It’d be a step forwards for this whole country. Of course the more agreement we can find over the issue, the better. That’s why I’m really looking forward to tonight. There’s a hope we can convince some people who are yet to realize how much this would mean to us as a country.”

 

Harry ended his rambling with his mouth curving into a wider smile, a spark in his eyes. Louis had seen this all before, of course. On the pages of the magazines, television interviews, heard it on the radio. It wasn’t new to him. The way Harry clasped his hands behind his back and turned his toes inwards bashfully, while letting his words fall out of his mouth with a heavy, deep certainty. The way a dimple popped in his cheek when he flashed a smile to win over the crowd.

  
It wasn’t new. It annoyed him to the core.

  
He wiped his palms over his face at the same time as Harry opened his mouth to say something more. Louis never got to hear that, though, because right then the television screen went black.

  
Louis dropped his hands and turned his head with confusion written on the small creases in the corners of his eyes, the ones that didn’t quite disappear anymore even when he wasn’t smiling.

  
Liam, his assistant, stood behind the couch holding the remote in his hand. He glanced at Louis, disapproval of Harry’s words clear in his dark brown eyes.

  
“Let’s call it a day, for now,” Liam said, “Still got that thing tonight.”

  
Liam’s eloquence was what got him the job.

  
“Yeah, that thing,” Louis echoed in a dull voice, unimpressed.

  
Harry may be looking forward to tonight, but Louis certainly wasn’t. All he really hoped for was that their paths wouldn’t cross. That wouldn’t have to happen, there would be a lot of people, after all.

  
“Why are you so eager to get home?” Louis questioned while pushing himself up. “Sophia waiting for you?”

  
“Yeah, I told her I’d meet her in thirty minutes.”

  
Liam shuffled his feet and glanced at Louis as if he wasn’t quite sure if Louis was okay with Liam setting the phase of their work day. They had worked together for more than two years now, and Liam was still seeking for approval.

  
“Alright. I’ll just get my briefcase and we can catch the lift down together,” Louis said to let Liam out of his suffering.

  
He had somewhere to be, anyway. It was as good a time as any to call it a day. For some reason he wished they wouldn’t have done it quite yet, though. He knew he was just looking for reasons to cancel on Eleanor. He could already feel the headache creeping on him just thinking about sitting at the café listening to how her day had been.

  
Liam didn’t help matters.

  
“Hey Louis,” he started when they were standing side by side in the lift staring at the numbers above the door slowly go down from twelve. “Do you think I’m too young to be a dad?”

  
Louis groaned on the inside, but decided to be patient with Liam for once.

  
“You are 28, Liam. Do _you_ think you’re too young?”

  
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking! But like- you’re older than me and you’re not thinking of getting kids, are you?”

  
“This seems like a conversation a tad bit too serious for a short lift ride,” Louis sighed. “But no, I’m not thinking of getting kids, if you must know. However, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. I don’t think anyone else can tell you whether you’re ready or not. Have you discussed this with Sophia?”

  
“Yeah, we’ve talked about it,” Liam mumbled.

 

“And what does she say?” Louis asked as the lift doors opened with a ding to signal their arrival at the first floor.

  
Louis took a glance at Liam as they walked towards the exit. Liam shoved a frustrated hand through his hair that had been gelled up into a stiff quiff, shaven short from the sides.

  
“I guess she really wants them, and I want to give that to her, you know?” Liam said.

  
No, Louis didn’t know. He didn’t say anything, instead opting to take the role of a listener.

  
“I’m just not sure if I’m ready. I’m not sure if she’s ready either.”

  
“Well, maybe you should talk about it some more then, before you make any hasty decisions,” Louis said in lack of better advice to spare.

  
They stepped out onto the street and kept walking towards the parking garage located in the building across the street. They had to stop at a red light.

  
“But haven’t you thought about having children at all? Like, is that even something you want?” Liam asked.

  
He looked at Louis with a little too much interest in his eyes, so Louis turned his gaze to the traffic lights. Maybe he didn’t share quite that much detail about his personal hopes, dreams and insights. Liam was bound to get curious. It was just that Louis had learned time ago that it made life a lot easier, if you just explained yourself through motives and reasons that made sense to others. In the end it didn’t matter what was your personal view, if the outcome was the same.

  
“I’m not lining that possibility out, but right now my relationship with Eleanor just isn’t quite serious enough to be thinking about things like that,” Louis said and grinned at Liam just so he wouldn’t end up cringing at his own words.

  
It’s not that what he was saying wasn’t true. He certainly wasn’t thinking about having children with Eleanor. He just didn’t particularly like the whole topic.

  
And maybe Liam saw through him more than he should have, because he dropped it. By the time they were standing beside their cars in the underground carpark the serious tone of the conversation had drifted off to a heated discussion on whether Manchester United could beat Arsenal in the game of next Saturday or not. Liam thought they had no chance. Liam was wrong, obviously.

 

\---

 

Eleanor had decided they would meet at a Pret A Manger by the edges of Fitzrovia, close to where she worked. It was a hell to find a place to park Louis’ BMW. It wasn’t really a car made for the streets of London, too wide and bulky, but Louis liked the smooth, black lines of the SUV. He liked having a big car, not that he really needed one, since most of the time he was traveling in it alone. He even took the tube from time to time, which- well, Liam didn’t think that was very wise considering the number of people who would recognize his face. Maybe it wasn’t. Louis did it anyway.

 

He ended up having to park the car further away from the coffee shop than he would have liked to. He knew he was already a little late as he hurried down the street, cellphone vibrating for an incoming text message. He didn’t stop to read it, he knew it was Eleanor. She’d always been punctual like a Swiss clock. Unlike Louis himself.

  
The day was a little too hot for wearing a suit jacket, but Louis pushed forward without even loosening his tie.

  
A man in his forties stopped him for a brief chat on a street corner. Louis shook his hand and flashed a smile. Keeping the public happy with him was vital for his career as a politician, after all. He was never in too much of a hurry to listen to an elector explain how pleased they were with his work in the parliament.

  
By the time Louis got to the coffee shop Eleanor was already biting into her mozarella sandwich. She had claimed herself one of the small tables set on the side of the street outside the coffee shop.

  
“Started without me?” Louis greeted her.

  
Eleanor’s brown eyes snapped up from her phone when she heard Louis’ voice. She had her long hair tied on a loose ponytail behind her neck and wide sunglasses placed upon her head. The big tree by the road shadowed the table enough to not need the sunglasses.

  
“I figured you wouldn’t mind,” she answered smiling after she’d wiped her mouth hastily with a napkin.

  
“I’ll just grab something from inside,” Louis informed her.

  
Eleanor crossed her legs under the table and craned her neck for the quick kiss Louis planted on her cheek. It was just a habit, not really an endearment. Looked more natural than shaking your girlfriends hand whenever you meet her.

  
Louis wasn’t feeling all that hungry, but picked a sandwich with bacon and cheese anyway. He knew he’d be hungry later if he skipped a meal now, and he recalled his fridge being empty.

  
The young boy behind the counter looked at him with a spark of recognition in his eyes. His mouth twitched, but he didn’t say anything apart from the price of Louis’ sandwich and coffee. Probably wanted to keep his job.

 

With people knowing his face came the people who despised his face.

  
Or maybe not the _face_ , in particular. The face was quite fine, even if he said so himself. The despising may have more to do with differing opinions. Whatever. Louis was in the parliament, the boy behind Pret A Manger’s counter wasn’t. And that made him pretty much irrelevant.

  
Louis tossed a few bills in the charity tip jar just to show off.

  
Louis shrugged off his formal jacket and placed it on the back of his chair before he sat down. It was rather a hot day despite the small gust of wind blowing from west every now and then. Eleanor was wearing only a sleeveless white top with her dark pencil skirt.

  
Louis wasn’t sure if this was a nice place at all. Granted, the sun was shining and there was a bit of green around in the form of those big trees growing by the street, but the street was a busy one, cars rushing by in a whir leaving behind the smell of gasoline. It wasn’t something Louis would have picked himself, but Eleanor liked the coffee shop chain for their fresh, ecologically produced food. At least the food actually tasted alright, too.

  
“How was work?” Louis asked while unwrapping his sandwich.

  
“Same old,” Eleanor shrugged. “Wasn’t a busy day, really. How about you?”

  
“Nothing new, just a couple of meetings, heated discussions, the usual.”

  
Louis almost slipped in a comment about Liam’s baby fever, but held his tongue at the last minute. It would be counterproductive to steer the discussion in that direction.

  
They talked about their jobs for a while, until Eleanor started telling a detailed story about her colleague who had dyed her hair. It had turned out horrible so she had gone to the hairdresser’s to try and fix it, but after that the color was even worse. They laughed at the poor woman’s misfortune and finished their sandwiches.

  
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Eleanor asked when they stood up cradling their take-away coffee cups in their hands.

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“A walk. Like, we can go to Regent’s Park for a bit?”

  
She glanced at Louis unsurely and hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder. They didn’t usually take walks. They just sat in restaurants and had sex afterwards, as simple as that.

  
“In those shoes?” Louis questioned.

  
Eleanor’s heels weren’t exactly stilettos, they were thicker, but they added at least three inches to her height. Which made her a little bit taller than Louis when they were standing up. He’d look silly beside her. Unmanly.

  
“We don’t have to,” Eleanor sighed. “Do you want to go to mine? What do you want?”

  
There was frustration folded in her voice. Her movements told the same story as she swiped her hair off her shoulder and then pulled it back to the front.

  
“I’m sorry, I’m just really- I think we should break up,” Louis blurted out.

  
He felt his own eyes widen a little at the same time as Eleanor’s lips moved around the word _what_. He wasn’t quite sure if he had actually meant to say that. Probably not. But he quickly realized it was for the best. It was long overdue, in fact.

  
The same realization gleamed in Eleanor’s eyes as she lowered her gaze for a moment before looking at Louis again, with new kind of determination.

  
“Are we going to take that walk after all, or is this just- just like that, huh?”

  
“We can take a walk,” Louis complied.

  
He probably owed it to her.

  
They didn’t exchange a word as they walked towards Regent’s Park. Louis tried to take Eleanor’s hand, but she shook him off trying to be discreet about it. She didn’t quite manage. It was just awkward. Louis didn’t want to hurt her, that wasn’t his aim. He didn’t know what to do, so he just shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking silent.

  
The park was in the opposite direction to where Louis had left his car and he felt a little uneasy about it, but he guessed it would have been stupid to suggest they take the car and drive closer to the park. He didn’t know how much Eleanor would tolerate from him. Probably not that much.

  
Regent’s Park was green and bright and too happy. It was full of people, families laughing, young couples holding hands, tourists taking pictures and students lounging on the grass with textbooks forgotten on the side as they tanned with headphones in their ears. There were carefully gardened flowerbeds wherever he looked, red, yellow, white and purple, all too joyous to match his feelings.

  
“Let’s take a seat,” Eleanor said when they reached an empty bench facing a grand fountain and a bunch of neatly trimmed thujas bordering a gorgeous bed of orange and red flowers, the species of which remained unidentified for Louis.

  
Her voice was a little bland. Otherwise she seemed to be fine. Maybe a little less frustrated than when they left the café. Or maybe it was just Louis’ wishful thinking.

  
For a while neither one of them said anything. Then Eleanor abruptly turned her whole upper body towards Louis and opened her mouth. Before any sound came out, though, she stopped like she was reconsidering her next words.

  
“I was seeing other people at one point, you know,” Eleanor confessed.

 

Her voice wasn’t apologetic, more like disappointed. Louis just didn’t know whether the disappointment was directed towards him or Eleanor herself. It could have been disappointment in _them_ , in believing in them, in having let herself be tagged along for so long in something that was really hopeless from the start. She had to have seen it too, by now. She’d been wasting her time.

  
Her confession didn’t shock Louis, it didn’t make him mad. It made him feel guilty.

  
“It wasn’t even recent, and I was going to tell you,” she continued. “But then you started taking me to all these events and parties with you and I thought- I really thought we were going to work it out, that we were headed for something better. But I guess not.”

  
She turned her gaze away, glued it to a little boy who ran to the fountain and reached over the edge to touch the water. His laughter pierced the air as he splashed some water on himself right before his mother came to pick him up into her arms. Louis turned away when the mother started spinning around with her child. Eleanor was still staring.

  
“I’m really sorry,” Louis said. “I know I’ve been-“

  
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Eleanor interrupted him, shaking her head.

  
“Maybe we’re both sorry. It’s okay.”

  
They fell into a momentary agreeable silence.

  
“I just thought it’d be good to come clean now. Maybe that was selfish. I won’t feel so bad about it if you’ve forgiven me,” Eleanor hummed then, picking on a thread sticking from the seam of her skirt.

  
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Louis sighed and placed his hand on her shoulder as an act of reassurance.

  
He stretched his neck back to stare at the sky. The park was too colourful and vibrant. The sky was just a blank blotch of blue. Calm and steady.

  
“Alright,” Eleanor gave in without trying to press her point further. “Can I ask you something?”

  
“Sure.”

  
Louis could have made it into a joke, but he wasn’t on the mood. And it would have been the lamest of jokes anyway.

  
“Just- why? I assume this is something that won’t be discussed, like, no take backs. All I want to know is why. Why don’t you want to _try_?”

  
Louis lowered his gaze back to Eleanor and bit his lip from the inside for a second before answering.

  
“Don’t you think we’ve tried, El? I think we have. It’s not about-,” he stopped himself last minute from delivering the most cliché break up line and changed the course of his words into something more fitting. “You’re a really great person, I know that for sure. It was just never going to work out, was it?”

  
Louis had done this all before, he knew the drill. First Hannah, then Lauren, now Eleanor. There was nothing wrong with any of them. With Hannah he’d even gone as far as getting engaged, but that only lasted until Hannah gently broke it to him that it was never going to work out between them. He was lucky in that sense, having not made the mistake of tying himself down too tightly. That first time had taught him to be more careful. His relationships had never ended in passionate rows and eyes full of tears. He’d made sure the women he was with walked out of his life mostly unharmed. It was just never going to work out with any of them.

  
“I guess,” Eleanor said.

  
Neither one of them had anything more to say. Louis wasn’t sure if his answer satisfied Eleanor, but she didn’t probe for a better explanation, so he let it be. Eleanor leaned back and let Louis slide his arm around her slim shoulders. He did actually care about her. You don’t just spend nearly two years in a relationship with someone without starting to care for them. No matter if your heart isn’t entirely in it.

  
“Louis,” Eleanor said then. “You don’t usually open up much. But I hope you’ll find someone that you can tell all your secrets to. I hope you’ll let someone make you happy. You’ll find that person.”

  
Those words made something ugly and unpleasant curl in Louis stomach. The wave of unease settled over him like a too thick blanket, like walls closing in, squashing him, choking him. Right then. That _person_.

  
He didn’t answer.

 

\---

 

“That thing”, as Liam dubbed it, was a conversational event arranged for the sole purpose of finding peace between the ones who supported same-sex marriage and the ones who opposed it. Of course it was just a formal peace-offering that wouldn’t lead them to any kind of consensus at the end of the day.

  
Louis wasn’t really obligated to be there, but it would make him look better if he showed his face and made it look like he considered discussion on the matter possible. The truth was that they could discuss it for as long as they wanted, but it wouldn’t change his opinion. For the number of media representatives who had bothered to come there Louis was ready to listen to a bunch of gay people whine about who they wanted to marry for a couple of hours.

  
But as it turned out, that wasn’t quite true.

  
Harry Styles was the first one to take the podium. Louis sat through his speech trying not to squirm in discomfort as Harry’s eyes met his once, only once, without a blink of recognition. Louis wasn’t silly enough to think Harry didn’t recognize him. Even if Harry would have forgotten their past, the parts of it that Louis wasn’t too keen on remembering himself, Louis was still too visible when it came to this matter. There was no chance Harry wouldn’t know who he was. Maybe the only indication of recognition he was going to get was the way Harry avoided looking in his direction for the rest of his speech almost as if he did so purposefully.

  
Louis wasn’t really listening to any of what Harry was saying, too concentrated on staring at the way his pink lips moved around the words and the way his long fingers gripped the edges of the lectern. He didn’t feel like he owed it to these people to listen to them and try to feel some kind of empathy. He had heard all of their reasoning before and the way they talked made it clear they weren’t willing to even consider there might be any truth to what the other side was saying. So Louis was just treating them the same way he had been treated all along.

  
It was easy to tune Harry out. Well, much easier than the part where he was trying not to squirm in his seat, anyway. He kept watching Harry up on the podium attentively as if he was actually listening. After all, the whole purpose of him being here was to look good in the eyes of the media, not to have his mind turned around. As if that was even a possibility.

  
Things got a lot harder when Harry was done and stepped off the podium as a roaring applause filled the auditorium. Louis resisted rolling his eyes. He leaned his cheek against his fist, elbow propped on the armrest of the uncomfortably hard chair. The next speaker didn’t have nice, full lips or sparkling eyes or pale, silky-looking skin, none of what Harry had. Nothing to keep Louis’ mind off his words. So he found himself listening, and it was honestly just frustrating. He came up with side-comments and counterarguments that he had to just swallow up. The next couple of speakers got him to the brink of bolting out of his seat and screaming.

  
When the fourth speaker was done, Louis got up. Liam gave him a confused look, but no one else really paid him any mind as he discreetly slid out of the side door during the applause. He clicked the door shut before the applauding had ended, so his departure didn’t cause any excessive noise.

  
Sighing, he headed towards the cafeteria set up in the large lobby of the building. The quests were supposed to stay for coffee after all the speeches, but Louis figured no one would mind if he took a head start for it.

  
There were only a few people bustling around in the lobby, mostly ones who worked at the cafeteria. Louis got himself a cup of coffee and sat down by one of the tables, facing the windows that showed the small inner court and its flower plantings, all in full bloom.

  
He stirred his coffee with the spoon, falling into his thoughts. Before he made it to taking a sip, a cup of tea was placed on the table, and a man in a black suit sat down opposite him. He raised his gaze, surprised.

  
Harry Styles.

  
Louis was trying to think of what to say, but he couldn’t come up with anything. Then he realized that it was actually Harry who had sat in the same table as him, not the other way around. So it was Harry’s problem to think of conversation starters. Not that Louis wanted any kind of conversation with him. Something ugly was unfurling in his stomach and he could feel nervous sweat breaking at the back of his neck. As much as he would have liked to deny it, Harry had got shit on him. Maybe this was Harry finally trying to use it against him, to blackmail him in some way. _Oh god_.

 

“Tired already?” Harry just asked him with an unreadable look on his face.

  
He was just swirling a spoon in his tea and letting his eyes travel up and down Louis’ face. Louis didn’t know what Harry was looking for, but he decided to make damn sure the guy wouldn’t find any of it.

  
“What’s it to you?” he asked instead of a proper answer, gritting his teeth.

  
“No, I’m just wondering. Why come all the way here if you aren’t even going to try to look like you’re listening.”

  
It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement with how Harry raised his eyebrows and tilted his head disapprovingly. The staring of his green eyes was unnerving, and Louis tried his best to not show how much Harry was able to ruffle him up. He could feel his old defense mechanisms kicking in. It would have been so easy to just throw in some mean words and avoid going where he didn’t want to go. But he was an adult now. How boring. He had a reputation to think of.

  
“I’ve already listened to you people more than enough. It’s not like there’s going to be some magical turnaround in my thinking,” Louis sighed.

  
Harry snorted at that and lowered his gaze to his cup of tea. He was quiet for a moment, still slowly swirling his spoon in the cup. Louis could feel the bewildered stares of every employee of this place on his back. It must look a bit unbelievable, the feistiest of enemies sitting in the same table and having a conversation without even raising their voices.

  
Then Harry turned his gaze back up to Louis, an easygoing smile on his face. But there was something else hidden beneath it, something darker.

  
“Where’d you leave your girlfriend, then?” he asked.

  
Louis shed him an unimpressed look and sipped his coffee slowly. But he decided to answer. He did consider himself a bit of a comedian, after all.

  
“Regent’s Park.”

  
Harry frowned and confusedly leaned forward a bit. “What?” he asked.

  
“Said I left her at Regent’s Park,” Louis shrugged.

  
He felt something white-hot spreading inside of him, like anticipation for Harry’s response. But it was overshadowed by the remorse he felt for letting him in so easily. Louis’ failed relationship was absolutely none of Harry’s business.

  
Harry leaned back and let a small _oh_ fall from his lips. Louis gaze followed the movement of them like he was just unable to resist. He busied himself with drinking some more coffee and staring out at the darkening courtyard.

  
Harry got over his initial surprise fast. He leaned forward on his elbows again, like he just couldn’t decide which way to lean.

  
“I’d say I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m really not,” he said with a sly smile on his lips.

  
Louis couldn’t resist rolling his eyes anymore.

  
“How nice of you,” he retorted. “Why would you care about my relationships anyway?”

  
Harry raised his brows and let his smile widen.

  
“Are you actually asking that?” he laughed.

  
“Yes, I am actually asking that,” Louis said, starting to get angry. “It’s none of your business who I’m seeing or not seeing. Whatever it is you think you know about me, you honestly don’t.”

  
Louis knew he was lying. But he was lying all the time, it didn’t cause a reaction in him anymore. Suddenly he felt really tired. Like he would be happy if he could just slide off his chair and lay on the ground while people moved around him, just lay there until everyone was gone and the lights would be flicked off.

  
Something must have shown on his face, because Harry looked a lot more serious now. He was staring at Louis so intently he felt his skin prickle.

  
“Okay, I apologize. It’s really none of my business,” Harry said. “But can I suggest something? This – equal marriage – is really something I feel passionate about. And I think you do, too. Just in a different way. But I would really appreciate it, if we could take some time to discuss our views. Not here, not now, but at some point. Somewhere with less prying eyes.”

  
Harry looked… nervous. The look was very out of place on his face. That made Louis wonder what it really was that Harry wanted. It wasn’t just to discuss equal marriage, it must have been something else. Harry probably knew Louis wasn’t going to change his mind for any words he could say. So what was it that he really wanted? And what was that mix of emotions shining through? Nervousness, determination, something else. What was it?

  
Louis cleared his throat. At the same time he heard the noises of several conversations and feet moving on the stone floor all mixing up in the hallway where the doors of the auditorium must have been opened as the last speech ended. The noises were getting closer, Louis heart was pounding as he stared at Harry’s eyes trying to figure out what he was after.

  
“Fine,” he just said eventually and slid his business card across the table before getting up and leaving the rest of his coffee behind.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think, all kinds of constructive feedback is welcome! My twitter is @goesbyvee if you want to come and say hi there. :)


	2. Second Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Three things:  
> 1\. Thank you for the encouraging comments and thank you to anyone who is reading, special thanks to the sweethearts who gave kudos or bookmarked.  
> 2\. Since I ended up posting relatively short chapters, I now feel like I might have to bump up the number of chapters by one or two. Sorry? I’m still undecided, though.  
> 3\. I wrote most of this chapter at the university library giggling to myself at a point or two. That’s all I’m going to say about that. Enjoy the chapter! :)
> 
> Disclaimer: While including characters based on the personas of real, existing persons, this story is a work of fiction and is absolutely not meant to imply anything about these persons, their lives, personalities, sexualities, relationships, opinions, or anyone connected to them.

 

 

Louis pushed open the door of a little bar he had never visited before. Harry had chosen the place, and Louis had to drive all the way to Hammersmith to get there, but maybe it would be more secluded than anyplace they could find in Mayfair or South Kensington, for example. More suited for a private conversation. It’s not like they really _had to_ hide their interactions, but it would undeniably look weird if they were seen together.

  
Louis still wasn’t sure why he even bothered to come. He had spent all of five days coming up with reasons why he shouldn’t, but there he was, stepping inside the bar, taking in the interior design. The place was dark and gruff, quite a typical bar, but not the kind of place he would have imagined Harry visited regularly. What had he even been expecting? Maybe something hipstery like Starbucks, or some place with organic smoothies and only vegetarian food, something that Eleanor would have picked.

  
This wasn’t a date, though. _Definitely_ not a date. Harry probably would just try to turn his mind around, blackmail him with some things he could pull from his past. But he didn’t have any proof whatsoever and surely he wasn’t stupid enough to think Louis would shiver in fear when faced with half-formed threats. He wouldn’t.

  
Louis glanced around and spotted Harry standing at the end of the bar, leaning his elbows on it and chatting to the bartender. He was tall and lean as always, dressed in simple black jeans and ridiculous silvery boots. His shirt was buttoned only halfway up and Louis had to gulp in a breath and steady his rabbiting pulse before he determinedly strode towards the curly haired man.

  
He didn’t say anything even when Harry noticed him and turned to regard him with a measuring glance. Louis just ordered himself a beer. One beer wouldn’t affect his driving. And he wasn’t sure he could go through this without any alcohol in his system.

  
“Hi,” Harry said, then adding: “You look nice.”

  
Louis frowned at him disapprovingly while the bartender slid his beer across the counter. He paid for the beverage and turned to glance over the small tables and empty booths by the walls. There were only a few people sitting by the tables, and none of them were paying Louis and Harry any attention.

  
“If you’re trying to mock-flirt with me, you can stop right now. That’s not what I’m here for,” Louis said as he started walking towards the booth at the very darkest corned of the pub. “Actually, what _am_ I here for?”

  
Harry trailed after him and took a seat opposite him in the booth, placing his pint on the table.

  
“I’m not trying to mock-flirt or flirt with you. Just an observation. Trying to be polite, ever heard of a thing like that?” he said. “And you’re here for… conversation, I guess.”

  
Louis sighed and shook his head.

  
“Well, I know what you want to say, and you probably know what I’m going to say, so what’s the point?”

  
He took a sip of his beer and stared at Harry. Harry hadn’t looked away ever since Louis first came up to him, and it made him want to squirm, just like in that auditorium. But that time his squirming had been because Harry had not looked at him. This time it was the opposite. Maybe Louis had just trouble deciding what he wanted.

 

He touched his fringe to make sure the wind outside hadn’t made his hair point in strange directions, but it seemed to be just fine. Was there something on his face, smudges of mayonnaise from the burger he’d eaten when he was having dinner with Liam earlier at a lot nicer restaurant than this one? Surely not. Liam would have pointed it out.

  
“I know what you’re going to say,” Harry said and held a pregnant pause. “And I know you’re going to lie.”

  
It wasn’t really a surprise, but it still felt like a punch to his gut, having someone so boldly calling his bluff and bringing up what he had decided to bury deep enough for no one to ever find. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room, or like his lungs had just folded in and he couldn’t fill them without gasping like a fish out of water. He forced himself to calm down.

  
“Well, if you think I’m lying, what do you think is the truth? I can assure you, you are probably wrong.”

  
As soon as the words left Louis' mouth, he realized it was a mistake to utter them at all. He didn’t really want to hear what Harry considered the truth. That was the last thing he needed to hear.

  
“But you admit you’re not telling the truth about what your view on this whole issue is?” Harry asked waving his hand around as if that was meant to symbolize the issue of gay marriage.

  
“You’re not wrong about that. I don’t think men shouldn’t marry men cause God says so, that’s not what I think. You’re right. But I could bet – I _know_ – you’re assuming other things, too. And you’re wrong about them,” Louis' words just flew out of his mouth without any kind of consent from him.

  
He was frustrated, and Harry was still staring at him like he was trying to read a book that had most of its pages glued together. He seemed patient, though. His hands were resting against the glass of his pint and he was leaning back to his seat, shoulders relaxed. He looked like he wasn’t in any hurry, like he was determined to figure Louis out and he wouldn’t care how long it would take or how difficult it would end up being. That got the hairs on Louis arms standing up. He wasn’t ready to be examined that closely.

  
“But what if, for a minute, I just wouldn’t assume anything. I’m asking you. Off the record, what are you really thinking?” Harry spoke slowly.

  
Louis sipped his beer and pondered what might happen if he just told Harry the truth. How could Harry use it against him? Louis was paranoid enough to come up with a scenario where Harry was wearing a microphone and the next day’s headlines on trash magazines would scream _Minister Tomlinson Exposed_. But Harry was never going to get the confession he was fishing for. The worst that could happen was that Louis would be considered a bit nuts. And there was already a portion of people who questioned his mental capacity simply because he happened to disagree with them.

  
But still, it was none of Harry’s business. They were never friends, and they wouldn’t be bonding over old memories with tears of nostalgia in their eyes.

  
“There’s no use talking about it,” Louis settled on. “You would still continue disagreeing with me. And don’t say you might not. Honestly, I’d rather listen to a bunch of assumptions thrown on me than try to explain what this is really about. It’s complicated.”

 

Harry just sighed. He looked defeated, like he wasn’t going to ask again. That made Louis feel both relieved and disappointed. Maybe he wanted to share the thoughts running through his head. Harry just wasn’t the right person for it and that wasn’t going to change.

  
“Okay. Then I’m going to throw an assumption on you. Just one, is that okay?” Harry asked.

  
And why would he care? Just bring it on.

  
“Go ahead,” Louis complied. “I probably know what you’re going to say, anyway.”

  
“Or maybe you don’t,” Harry said and paused like he was thinking his words over before he let them out. “I think you like men. I’m not assuming anything past that, not putting you under a label. I don’t want to assume your sexuality, there are so many of them, other than just homo- and heterosexuals, you know?”

  
“Jeez, would you lower down your voice a little?” Louis hissed, glancing around, but no one seemed to pay them any mind.

  
“I’m not going to ask you if it’s true,” Harry pushed on in a slightly quieter voice, “since this is just me throwing an assumption upon you. So I’m not going to ask. But that’s what I think, Louis. And you probably know why.”

  
Louis glared at him. He didn’t say anything, and Harry wasn’t asking him to. But this was just- Harry wasn’t supposed to- no. Louis raised his pint to his lips to have something to do and not be so painfully obvious, but his hands were shaky. Harry wasn’t playing fair.

  
“I just keep wondering what went wrong,” Harry shrugged. “Something must have. I just keep wondering, I guess that’s part of why I asked you here. Sorry.”

  
Louis let a choking laugh escape his lips, even though it made him sound a bit mad and a bit pathetic. He put his pint back down on the table and some of the liquid sloshed over the edge.

  
“So you think I’m somehow broken?” Louis asked incredulously. “Well, guess what, Curly, I’m not. You think there’s something wrong with me, if I don’t want to be with men, despite who I might be attracted to? Because here’s some truth for you; I don’t want to be with men. That’s what you want, and I’m still not telling you there’s something wrong with you because of that, Jesus Christ, I’ve grown from that, okay? So don’t go telling me there’s something wrong with me.”

  
Louis was breathing heavy and trying to hide it the best he could. He wasn’t sure if he was making any sense. All of his thoughts seemed to be jumbled together, somehow. Harry thought he liked men, and Louis had expected that much of him. But he hadn’t expected Harry would be twisted enough to think there was actually something wrong with _Louis_. He should have known it would come to this, really. To Louis it was all about what was logical, about decision, self-control, and Harry could never begin to grasp that. He probably believed in fate or destiny, or some shit.

  
“I’m not-“, Harry started, but Louis cut him off: “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

  
Then there was a staring contest. Louis was sure Harry would try to continue on the topic, but then the other customers in the pub let out delighted shouts and claps. Louis and Harry both turned to look what all the noise was about. There was football on the tv, Arsenal had just made a goal.

  
“Kinda like you back in the day”, Harry grinned as the goal was showed again in slow-motion.

  
The idiot was leaning a cheek on his palm and smiling with dimples popping. Louis gave him a disbelieving look. He couldn’t believe Harry would have any fond memories of the time when they used to play in the same team in Holmes Chapel.

 

“Well, you were a shit goalie, no wonder we lost almost all the games”, Louis just said and turned back to his pint.

  
“Heyy”, Harry drawled, but the smile hadn’t disappeared from his face.

  
Louis wasn’t sure if he wanted to go there. He was almost sure he’d like to avoid the topics of past at all costs. But then they were talking about football, about Manchester United and all the other teams they liked and the team they used to play in and their old team mates, where they were now. Then they were talking about how school used to be, their old teachers, the little town they both had lived in before Louis had moved away at sixteen. They were just talking, and it was a lot less painful than Louis could have ever imagined. They didn’t stray too close to the touchy subjects, no one said a word about gay marriage again. It was just quite nice.

  
It was nearing ten o’clock, when Louis made his excuses and left the bar. He didn’t really have anywhere to be, especially now that his obligations to Eleanor were over. But he didn’t want to take any chances. It was better to leave when the atmosphere was still friendly and the conversation wasn’t sliding back towards the black holes they’d inevitably get lost in if he let this go on for a longer time.

 

\---

 

“Can’t you tell Eleanor to stop bothering you during working hours? I’m afraid it will start to affect your work at some point.”

  
Louis’ eyes snapped up from the screen of his phone. Liam was looking at him with a worried wrinkle between his eyebrows while he continued shovelling down his meal of pulled pork and parmesan fries.

  
“It’s not Eleanor,” Louis answered automatically, but as soon as he realized his mistake, he hurried to add: “Besides, this is technically not part of our working hours. We are on an extended lunch break at the moment, if you hadn’t noticed. Though, with the kind of appetite you seem to have, it’s hard to imagine you wouldn’t be aware of our task at hand.”

  
Louis mentally crossed his fingers and hoped his half-hearted insult would distract Liam from the first part of his reply, but of course he had no such luck, and the only thing Liam seemed to pick up from his speech was the first sentence.

  
“If you’re not talking to Eleanor, who is it?” Liam asked.

  
He seemed both surprised and extremely worried. Even so much that he stopped eating and instead stared at Louis like he wouldn’t move until he got an answer. Maybe it was just the kind of face Liam had, the kind of face that makes a person look like they are majorly concerned all the time and never really relax.

  
“Calm down, I know a lot of other people than just Eleanor and you,” Louis tried to dismiss the topic, but he knew his argument was weak and Liam wouldn’t let it go that easily.

  
“No one texts with someone as much as you’ve been texting during the past week unless it’s something romantic,” Liam said and held a small pause before leaning in and continuing in an almost whispering tone: “You’re not cheating on El, are you?”

  
Louis almost choked on the water he was just taking a sip of. He shook his head at Liam even before he had swallowed down so he could speak.

  
“I’m not cheating on her. That’s such a huge accusation, would you really think I would do something like that? And you’re wrong. People have conversations over text messages all the time, and most of them are completely platonic.”

 

“Well, that doesn’t help anyone’s case much, considering historical accuracy when it comes to Plato and his young students, all of whom were male on top of it-“

  
“Liam!” Louis cut him off. “You know exactly what I meant. Do you really think I could be a cheater?”

  
Liam took a bite of his pork before answering. Louis would have considered it a sign of his nearing victory, if the pause didn’t appear in such a loaded part of the conversation. Now it kind of made it look like Liam really thought Louis would be prone to cheating, but didn’t want to say it aloud, because Louis was his boss, after all.

  
“No, I don’t think you would do anything like that. But if that’s not the case, then I guess you can just tell me who you’re texting with?” Liam said eventually, the end of his speech curving into a hesitant question.

  
They ate in silence for a little while, but the air between them was heavy and Louis knew he had to be the one to clear it. He had wanted to avoid telling Liam about his breakup with Eleanor, since he wasn’t keen on facing the questions that would inevitably follow. But now it seemed like that was his only way of setting things straight with the person who he considered not only a close employee, but quite honestly also his best friend.

  
Of course he could have opted for just telling Liam that he was texting Harry, which should clear the man’s head of any suspicions of cheating, but that wasn’t a path he was willing to take. While solving the problem at hand, that confession would cause ten new ones. The fact that Louis was keeping in contact with Harry wouldn’t make any sense to Liam. And to be honest, it didn’t even make sense to Louis.

  
He mainly justified it by reminding himself that A) it was never Louis who started the conversations, and B) someone _had_ to let the poor man know that no matter how much you enjoy having dicks in your mouth, it is utterly childish, idiotic and unimaginative to arrange your breakfast foods in the shape of the male genitals, especially if you do it _every single morning_ , and even more so, if you therefore rename the first meal of the day “morning food”, as if the situation called for bad puns.

  
That’s just pretty much how it had been since their meeting at the secluded Hammersmith pub. Every day since then the texting started in the morning, when Harry sent a picture of his breakfast, and then it just kind of… didn’t stop. And that was something Liam definitely didn’t need to know. Even if there was nothing romantic about it, unlike Liam suspected, it just wasn’t conventional of Louis to keep in contact with someone who publicly was the total opposite of him.

  
“I’m not going to tell you who I’m texting,” Louis said. “Not because it’s such a huge secret, but just because I don’t think that’s something I’m obligated to tell you. I consider you my friend, first and foremost, but even outside of our working status, there still has to be some kind of privacy. However, to assure you that I’m not cheating on anyone, I can tell you that’s not a possibility, since I’m not in a relationship anymore.”

  
“Oh,” Liam just said, and all distrust cleared out from his face. “So, does that mean-“

  
“Yeah, Eleanor and I broke up.”

  
“When did that happen?” Liam asked in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t necessarily even expecting an answer.

  
“About a week and a half ago. But if you don’t mind, I don’t really want to talk about it,” Louis said flashing a self-deprecating smile.

  
He didn’t feel like he was lying too much, maybe just taking creative circles around the truth. He really didn’t want to talk about his yet another failed relationship, and it sure was making him feel a lot of remorse and self-doubt, but right now he was just using those feelings to cover up a bigger secret. He knew Liam would interpret him just the way he wanted to be interpreted, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. But that was nothing new, and he shouldn’t get so bothered about it.

 

After that was out of the way, Louis made sure to not take another glace at his phone, though he could feel it vibrating in his pocket. At least now the conversation flowed more freely, even if Liam seemed to consider his words and actions a bit more carefully for the rest of their lunch break, as if Louis was a once dropped porcelain vase with a crack that might expand if it faced another hard impact.

  
Liam would get over it in a few days.

 

\---

 

Louis groaned as the doorbell rang. He had just found a comfortable position in his sofa cushions and the pile of pillows under him, and now that was ruined. Frustrated, he shot back up and headed towards the corridor leading to his front door. On his way there he grabbed the light pink sweater he had placed upon the drawer. Eleanor had called him a few days ago and notified having forgotten it in his apartment the last time she was there. He had told her he could drop it off at some point, but apparently she couldn’t wait.

  
Louis guessed it said something about their relationship, that the only item of hers in his apartment was a sweater left there by accident. And what probably said even more was the fact that there was no kind of trace of him in Eleanor’s apartment, though that’s where they used to go way more often than Louis’ place.

  
“You didn’t have to come all the way-,” Louis started as he pushed the door open.

  
But it wasn’t Eleanor. Standing behind his door was Harry, with wind-swept hair, a smile on his face and a pile of books cradled to his chest.

  
“Were you expecting someone?” Harry asked as a greeting and walked into Louis’ apartment right past him without further explanations.

  
Louis turned around to let his gaze follow Harry, but he didn’t close the door. He was expecting Harry to get out as fast as he came in, but apparently Harry had different plans, since he just kicked off his boots to the pile of Louis’ own shoes and moved further into the entry hall.

  
“What are you doing here?” Louis frowned, and suddenly he was way too aware of how he was dressed in a wrinkled t-shirt and old grey sweats.

  
Obviously he hadn’t really been expecting any guests when he finally got home after a long day of work and one too many worried glances from Liam who was still trying to make sure Louis was alright after his breakup with Eleanor. Louis had just wanted to pull on something more comfortable than the stiff suit he had to wear at work and crawl under a blanket to watch whatever film happened to be on the TV, as long as it was something cheery enough.

  
“Oh, I’m sorry I just barged in,” Harry said and his smile died down as he seemed to realize his actions could be considered rude. “I can leave, if you’re busy. I just wanted to show you something.”

  
For a minute Louis stared at Harry as the man’s green eyes raked over his appearance and then the pink sweater he was still holding in his hands. Harry bit his lip and seemed to grow more anxious as the seconds passed by.

  
“Well, this was definitely unexpected, but I’m not busy, in particular,” Louis said eventually and pulled the door behind him closed.

 

Harry’s smile was back, and that kind of made it all the more worth it to give in to that dimpling menace, even if Louis wasn’t quite able to explain to himself why he felt that way. If he were even a little bit wiser he would make sure to limit his interactions with Harry to the bare minimum. But maybe he was just a masochist at heart.

  
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a guy who wears pink,” Harry remarked as Louis tried to discreetly place the sweater back on the drawer to wait for its returning to Eleanor.

  
Louis shed Harry an unimpressed look.

  
“It’s not mine,” he said just to make sure Harry would be ridden of his false presumptions of Louis style of clothing. “My ex-girlfriend left it here.”

  
“The one you left at Regent’s Park?” Harry asked as he followed Louis to the kitchen.

  
“Yup, that’s the one.”

  
Not that Louis felt any need to impress Harry, but all the same he was glad that his apartment was for the most part clean. He had a cleaning lady come in once in every two weeks, and knowing his habit of never putting anything on its rightful place, that was a blessing. Besides, he was rather a busy guy, and he didn’t want to spend his spare time, the little of what he had, scrubbing dirt from the bathroom tiles.

  
His place was a spacious three-room apartment in South Kensington. The interior design was modern, full of light-coloured wood, lean lines and sharp edges, even though looking from the outside the house seemed to represent the Victorian style. Louis’ messy habits would have made all of that look like shit, if he hadn’t made the wise decision of investing in cleaning services.

  
“How did you know where I live?” Louis steered the topic away from Eleanor.

  
He turned to look at Harry as they arrived in the kitchen and Harry lowered his pile of books on the table. Harry’s gaze was wandering over the wooden cabinet doors and the steely kitchen furniture and machines, some of which Louis wasn’t very familiar with himself. Harry looked to be deep in thought, but then he snapped out of it.

  
“Well, think about it. If you wanted to find out where I live, would you have a way to figure it out?” he asked as he swiped his hair back from his face.

  
“I guess I would,” Louis admitted.

  
He leaned back to the counter with his arms crossed. He was aware of the protective vibe his stance was probably sending off, but he couldn’t bring himself to move into a more open position.

  
“There you have it, you’re not the only one with connections,” Harry said, flashing another smile.

  
“But why didn’t you just ask _me_?” Louis couldn’t help but wonder.

  
Harry placed his hands on top of his pile of books and tilted his head before answering.

  
“Because you would have asked why, and then you would have said no.”

  
Well, that made sense. If Harry had something in mind that he knew Louis would object to, it was easier for him to just walk into his apartment without any kind of warning in advance. And now Louis was probably in deep shit. Whatever, he could just kick Harry out, if the man had planned something absolutely unbearable. This was Louis’ apartment, after all.

  
“What was it that you wanted to show me? And can you do it fast, I was watching a movie.”

  
“But you said you weren’t busy?” Harry frowned, and the sinking disappointment on his face was so heartbreaking it would have melted the coldest of souls.

 

“Fine, I’m not busy. Do you want tea or something?” Louis gave in, sighing deep at his lack of self-control.

  
“Sure,” Harry said. “So… Hear me out, okay? I know you probably won’t care, but I actually saw some effort for this.”

  
“For what?” Louis asked at the same time as he flicked on the kettle.

  
“Come have a look.”

  
Louis took the few steps to stand beside Harry by the table and followed with his gaze as Harry spread the books across the table top for Louis to see. A quick glance made it clear that Louis had never seen any of them before. However, the rainbows and men holding hands in the covers gave him a pretty good idea of what each one of them was about. He let air escape his lungs through his nose.

  
“And you expect me to want to read this crap?” Louis questioned, raising his gaze up to Harry. “Seriously, Harry? I thought this topic was over and done with.”

  
“C’mon, you haven’t even heard my argument yet!” Harry tried to stand his case. “I just thought that if you’d read at least one of these, maybe it will help you to see my side of things? These are all great books, I have read them all. I can promise they’re good.”

  
“Of course they’re good if you agree with everything they say to begin with,” Louis grunted and took one of the books to his hands to examine it closer. “’God Loves Everyone – How to Be Gay and Christian’. Are you fucking serious with this? Did you even listen to me at all when I said this has nothing to do with God?”

  
“I brought that one just in case,” Harry said and took the book from Louis' hands.

  
That was probably for the best, if Harry wanted to keep his books. Louis may not take care of the cleanliness of his apartment on a regular basis, but at the moment he was very aware of the trash covering up his table top.

  
“What _is_ it about then, if not God? Maybe this was a bad idea, but I can’t do anything, cause you don’t tell me anything,” Harry snapped, sounding surprisingly hurt. “And I just thought that maybe it’s about religion after all, I thought you just didn’t want to admit it. But I’ve been thinking about this all week, and I couldn’t come up with any other reason to hate homosexuals as much as you do. And knowing your parents-”

  
“It’s not about my parents, either. And I don’t _hate_ anyone,” Louis replied bewildered and took a step back. “I don’t hate you, okay?”

  
Harry just stood where he was, still holding _God Loves Everyone_ in his hands and staring at the ground. His lips were pouting, but it looked unintentional.

  
“Well, you can’t blame me for thinking so,” he mumbled at last.

  
Louis turned away to pour tea into two mugs. And to clear his head, quite honestly. The quilt of making Harry look so defeated was weighing down on his shoulders. Maybe it was a sore spot for him, maybe it was just karma for all his past mistakes. Whatever it was that made him have this feeling, he wanted it gone.

  
When he turned around, Harry was sitting by the table. He had piled his books back up and moved them aside. He was staring out the window and there was a frown on his face, the smile from previously long gone. Louis wasn’t sure which was more prominent in Harry’s posture, the disappointment in his eyes or the authoritative tone of anger in the edges of his mouth. Maybe it was just an intimidating mix of both.

 

Louis put a mug on the table in front of Harry, and sat down opposite him. Now that no one was saying anything, the low noise of the film playing in the TV could be heard coming from the living room.

  
“I can try to explain the way I think, but if it doesn’t make any sense to you, you only have yourself to blame for wanting to know,” Louis said and took a long sip of his tea.

  
It burned his tongue a bit, but he didn’t show that on his face.

  
“Go ahead, I’m listening,” Harry said in a quiet tone, his face still scarily serious.

  
Louis took a long breath, before starting to explain. He still didn’t think Harry would understand any of what he was about to say, but he didn’t feel as scared of what Harry might do with this information as he had before. There wasn’t really a way Harry could use it against him, especially when it was just between the two of them. Here goes nothing, Louis thought.

  
“So, usually gay people seem to think that being gay is about finding yourself or being true to yourself or just… being the person that you are. But at that point you must have already defined yourself in some way,” Louis started. “And the way people define themselves is the same way they define everything else; by words and meanings that are in the world before them, they just take them as they’re given. And no one really stops to think about that. So basically that means that a lot of the decisions you make you just take for granted without even realizing they were decisions. And that leads people into believing in fate or other things like that, a deterministic world. But the way I think, I start from the base level. It’s kind of hard to explain, but I guess I could say I believe in science, but not all of these things are made very scientific in everyday life. People talk about moral and God, but no one really stops to consider what they base the whole subject of ‘being gay’ on.”

  
Louis sipped his tea and glanced at Harry to make sure he was following. Harry’s frown had only deepened.

  
“You seem to think I base my arguments on God, so let’s get rid of that first,” Louis continued his speech. “I believe in God, I do. But even if we assume that being gay is sin, it just doesn’t add up that all gays would be doomed to go to hell. If I’ve understood anything about my religion, God forgives everyone who believes in him. And when gay people leave the church because the church won’t accept them, I think that’s just stupid, because if they all leave, only the ones will remain there whose opinions made homosexuals think they’re not welcome in the first place. And then, as someone else who is gay comes looking for approval from the church, there’s none to be found, cause there’s no one left who shares his views. And after all, God exists for the ones who believe in him. So that’s everyone’s personal decision and it has nothing to do with anyone’s sexual orientation.”

  
“Sounds good. But I still don’t get it. If you think even God would be fine with homosexuals, then why are you not?” Harry commented.

  
“I’m not saying God’s fine with them. I don’t know what God’s fine with, I guess no one does. Anyway, that part wasn’t really important when it comes to my views. Just a side note. So, let’s get back to science and self-defining. You know how part of who we grow up to be is defined by our genes, and part of it is caused by our environment, like the upbringing we have?”

  
Harry nodded.

  
“No one seems to quite know in which relation these two come, but that’s not so important either. The point is, both of those things have some effects on who we are. So… Don’t take this next thing too seriously, it’s just an example to get down to the root of what I mean,” Louis said.

 

He knew his examples were a bit extreme, but they were the only things he could come up that would support his argument. The whole issue simply hadn’t been researched enough to say anything more about it.

  
“So, here comes the hypothesis. Let’s assume there’s a young man called John. At some point as he’s growing up, he starts to realize that he has sexual feelings for boys. Maybe he’s freaked out about it at first, but as he thinks about it, he realizes that a boy who likes boys romantically or sexually is gay. So John is gay, and that’s that.

  
But what if John happened to have a different upbringing? What if throughout his life John had been told that homosexuality is wrong and unacceptable, and he’s grown to believe so, too. So when John starts to get feelings for boys, he is terrified. Then he starts to think about what is a person who likes boys. And John comes to the conclusion that that kind of a person is a girl. So, John is a girl. But of course, there’s a contradiction between John’s conclusion and his genitals. So he realizes he’s actually a transwoman.

  
What I’m trying to say with this is that how sure are we that these things are somehow led by fate? What if every person who gets into that situation actually had all the options open, but chooses the one that scares them the least? Don’t you think that’s a possibility?”

  
“That sounds… possible,” Harry said, sounding unsure. “But even if you’re right and there is some kind of subconscious decision-making, why would that make homosexuality wrong? Do you think being trans is somehow better than being gay? And if it is like you say it is, then why does it _feel_ like you don’t have a choice?”

  
“That’s not exactly what I’m saying. What I’m trying to say is that being gay _and_ being trans are for a big part cultural things. But since a part of us is defined by our genes, there’s no way of saying that people couldn’t also be just born gay. Maybe some people are. But like Hume would say; ‘no ought from is.’ Just because someone happens to have feelings for the representatives of the same sex, doesn’t mean it’s right to act upon it. And thinking about evolution, it makes no sense to act upon it. It’s just useless.”

  
“But sex is important,” Harry frowned.

  
“Not really,” Louis shrugged. “Not unless it leads to reproduction. After all, we’re really just tools for our instincts.”

  
“So, are you saying my instincts are messed up?”

  
“I kind of am. You know, this is another a bit far-fetched example, but did you know that there’s actually a relatively large portion of women, who fantasize about being raped? As in, they actually get off on the thought of it. But if a woman like that actually got raped, I doubt she’d enjoy it.”

  
“But being raped and being gay are two totally different things,” Harry claimed.

  
“Both are wrong,” Louis just shrugged, turning his gaze to Harry.

  
Harry was still frowning. He was leaning on his elbows and staring at Louis with his wide green eyes in the way that made Louis feel uneasy, like he wanted to hide under the table just to put some kind of an obstacle between himself and Harry’s relentless staring.

  
“But even if we assume, just for a moment, that being gay is wrong, you would still have to admit that it’s not so bad compared to things like murdering, raping or, like physical violence. Or even things like stealing or lying,” Harry claimed.

  
“Maybe it’s on a different scale with violence, but it’s still wrong. Definitely worse than lying,” Louis responded.

  
“You only think so to justify the amount you lie on a daily basis,” Harry said shaking his head.

 

 “Fine, you can keep believing in whatever it is that you always believed in. I didn’t expect this conversation to lead into anything,” Louis said and stood up to rinse his mug under the tap and put it into the dishwasher. “At least now you know why your books are useless.”

  
As Louis backed away from where he had leaned down to the dishwasher, his back collided with a solid chest. Harry had got up with his mug to follow Louis’ actions. Louis jumped out of the way to put some distance between their bodies. Harry gave him an unreadable look, but didn’t say anything. He put his own mug in the washer before turning to Louis again.

  
“I’m not saying I’ve changed my mind in the least, but I kind of understand what you’re basing your opinion on,” Harry admitted, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his hip on the side of the kitchen counter. “I just still don’t know why it’s so important to you to… restrain yourself from doing things you want to do. On a personal level. Because if we leave murdering and stealing aside, people do things that are basically wrong all the time, even when they know it’s wrong. They eat junk food while they should be losing weight and they drive cars though they know that it’d cause less pollution if they took the bus. People do things that are wrong all the time, and usually they don’t even feel bad about it, because they’re not hurting anyone, at least not directly. It’s called having fun. You should try it sometime.”

  
That kind of sounded like Harry was telling him he should jump into bed with a guy once in a while. Not good.

  
“On a personal level, huh? Well, on a personal level I’ve made the decision to not do things that I consider wrong. And I can’t really tell others what to do with their lives, but the least I can do is to not encourage anyone to pursue that kind of messed up desires,” Louis said. “And now, if you don’t mind I’d like to get back to the movie I was watching.”

  
Louis expected Harry to take his stupid books and leave when he walked into the living room, but of course Harry couldn’t just let him get off the hook that easily. The man trailed after him and took a seat beside him on the couch. He was way too close for Louis’ liking, their thighs almost touching, but Louis refused to be the one to awkwardly shift and widen the gap.

  
“You were watching Ratatouille?” Harry asked amusedly when he noticed the animated mouse bustling on the TV-screen.

  
“Not really, it just happens to be on. Besides, you’ve already made me miss half of it,” Louis answered and threw a pillow at Harry’s head to underline his annoyance.

  
Harry caught the pillow and put it down beside him on the couch. Then he leaned back against the cushions. Louis could feel his staring on his temple, but he stubbornly kept his own eyes on the TV, though he wasn’t really following what was happening in the movie. It would have been difficult anyway, since he’d missed a big part of it while wasting his time with Harry.

  
“Have you seen that movie called Mr. Nobody?” Harry asked suddenly.

  
“I’ve seen it. Why?”

  
“Well, there’s the scene where the little boy, Nemo, is standing by a stall where two kinds of pastries are sold. He only has enough money to buy one, so he has to make a decision. But the decision is too hard to make, so eventually he just turns and walks away. You’re kind of like him, with the difference that both of his options were good, while you consider your options bad. The point is, you can’t run away from your decisions forever. Nemo couldn’t either.”

  
“So are you trying to say that Nemo couldn’t escape the pastries?” Louis tried to make it into a joke.

  
“No. I’m saying you can’t keep that control forever. Sometimes you should just let yourself go, do what you really want, and hope it turns out to be the best option,” Harry said, his tone contemplative.

 

“And you think you know what I really want?” Louis asked, his voice a little wavering and eyes still locked on the TV.

  
He could feel Harry moving slowly beside him. Their knees knocked softly as Harry leaned forward, bringing his mouth right beside Louis ear, not touching him anywhere except the knee, just staying there. The light from outside had died, sun fallen behind the horizon time ago, and the only light in the room was the blue glow of the television, changing the shadows on the walls. It made Louis feel like he was tripping or something, like this couldn’t be the reality he lived in.

  
“I think I do,” Harry said, almost whispering.

  
When Louis turned his head, Harry’s nose grazed his cheek. That’s how close their faces were. Harry’s eyes looked murky in the shadowy room. They were skipping between Louis’ eyes and lips as if they were searching his face for a sign of something. And maybe he found what he was looking for, because the next thing Louis knew, Harry was kissing him.

  
Harry’s lips were just as soft as they looked, and Louis… well, he honestly felt like he had just landed in heaven. That bad and rotten feeling he’d had at the bottom of his stomach all day, maybe longer, was suddenly gone. He felt free. The way Harry kissed him was careful and bold at the same time, it was gentle, but not unsure.

  
And Louis answered the kiss. He didn’t even try to restrain himself, he didn’t try to pretend he had the willpower to hold back. He just gave in, Harry had won this round. Maybe he would laugh at Louis afterwards, maybe this was some kind of a sick revenge, but Louis didn’t care. Right now there was just lips and peace and angels singing in his head.

  
“This is what you want, right? What you wanted all along,” Harry said without really pulling back, just puffs of air against Louis’ lips.

  
Harry pushed a hand into the hair at the nape of Louis’ neck to help him deepen the kiss. His other hand found its way onto Louis thing and pulled it over his own leg, which caused Louis’ whole body to move closer to him. Louis’ hands instinctively grabbed Harry’s shoulders so he’d manage to stay in a sitting position.

  
“Are you... trying to prove a point or something?” Louis asked between kisses.

  
“I already proved my point. Now I’m just kissing you,” Harry said and Louis could feel the man’s lips curve into a smile against his mouth.

  
That smile was quickly gone, as Harry’s tongue licked Louis’ mouth open. Louis trailed his fingers over Harry’s shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath his skin. He moved his left hand down Harry’s arm just to get to touch that soft skin, spreading his fingers over the bicep, feeling the size of it. Harry had a lovely body. So different from the skinny boy Louis had dreamed about seventeen years ago, but not in a bad way. Just more manly, more grown-up.

  
Somewhere in the midst of the heady kisses Louis made the shocking realization that he had been longing for this for a longer time than he had lived without knowing it was something he wanted. Ever since the cold, cruel rejection he faced at sixteen years old in the school locker rooms, the memory of Harry had been itching somewhere underneath his skin where he was unable to scratch.

  
He didn’t want to go back to that, so he pushed the unpleasant memories back down and concentrated on the feeling of Harry’s hand inching up his thigh. He gripped Harry’s bicep harder, when Harry cupped a hand over him. He was hard in his sweats, and he knew Harry could easily feel it.

  
Harry stopped kissing him and pulled his face a bit further away to look into Louis’ eyes. His gaze was searching again, and they both were panting a little. Louis tried to even out his breathing to not show how much Harry was able to affect him, but it wasn’t really working as Harry rubbed Louis’ member through the sweats and Louis’ mouth fell open in surprise. A quiet moan escaped from between his lips and he was mortified, but then suddenly Harry let go of Louis’ neck and fell onto his knees on the floor. It was such a fast, fluid motion that Louis had trouble keeping up with what was happening.

 

It wasn’t hard at all to catch on, though. Harry positioned himself between Louis’ knees and grabbed the waistband of his sweats. As he pulled them down, his boxers came too, which left Louis hard cock slapping his t-shirt covered stomach. Trousers at his ankles, Louis just watched appalled as Harry pushed his knees open and leaned between them. His intentions became very clear, since he was pretty straightforward about how he grabbed Louis dick and licked the head of it into his mouth without any warning.

  
Louis’ breath was caught in his throat and he didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he just kept them on his sides. He wished he would have something to grab onto, but the leather of the couch was pulled too tight to get a hold of. He couldn’t even turn his head away, because ever since sinking down on his cock, Harry had kept an eye contact through his long lashes, and it was hypnotic. He looked smug, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew he was doing it _well_.

  
Harry seemed to notice Louis needed some kind of a set point to go through with this. He took his hand off Louis’ cock in order to grab both of Louis’ hands and hold them down against the sofa cushions. Then he sank down deeper on Louis’ cock, taking in almost the whole length of it now that his hand wasn’t on the way anymore.

  
Louis let out a groan at the feeling of hitting the back of Harry’s throat. Of course he’d been given blowjobs before, and basically the drill was the same, but there was something different about it when it wasn’t with a girl. It was dirty and so wrong, and Harry seemed to not have boundaries, but they had already passed all of the boundaries Louis had. Or maybe it was just the fact that no girl had ever taken him this deep. Either girls tried to act all immaculate, or he hadn’t been with the right girls. Or maybe it was just that Harry was _so good_ at this. Maybe it was just Harry.

  
“I’m coming,” Louis grunted out way too late for it to actually serve as a warning.

  
His eyes rolled back as the wave of orgasm washed over him and his body trembled through the white-hot heat.

  
It was embarrassing in all the possible ways. First of all, Louis was coming faster than he usually would, so soon that it seemed like he had no kind of body control. Second, Harry had no time to pull away, and as Louis’ cock spurted cum straight down his throat he was left sputtering on it, finally showing some signs of actually having a gag reflex. And third, Louis was still coming when Harry finally did pull off, the last of his cum hitting his lips.

  
But Harry just swallowed and licked his lips and took Louis down one more time as if he wanted to make sure that every last drop of the white liquid ended up inside of his mouth. The stimulation was too much on Louis softening cock, and he had to squirm his hips to get the message through, because Harry was still gripping his hands and Louis’ still hadn’t regained his ability to form words.

  
Harry finally let Louis’ hands go as he leaned back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His other hand landed down to squeeze on his own crotch. That’s when the painful reality started to seep back in. Through the clouded, boneless feeling Louis realized what had just happened. And it was something that was never supposed to happen.

  
He coughed into his fist and hurriedly pulled his sweats back up. Harry put a hand on his knee, but he shook it off as he stood up and took a few steps away from where Harry was still kneeling beside the couch. He stood by the window, staring into the darkness outside to avoid looking at Harry.

 

What had gotten into him? He had a reputation to think of. And even if that wasn’t the case, this was just so _wrong_  on so many levels. He wasn’t supposed to be this weak, he wasn’t supposed to lead himself into situations that would only increase the fear of all the secrets he kept locked inside spilling out into the open.

  
“I think you should leave,” Louis said.

  
He didn’t turn to look at Harry, but he could hear the silence that indicated Harry still hadn’t moved. And he heard it too, when Harry scrambled up and let out a fed up huff. There was a sharp, quiet “fine”, and then Louis heard steps on the wooden floor and finally the front door slamming shut.

  
_Fine_. That was the end of that. It wouldn’t happen again, Louis promised himself as he pressed his forehead to the cold window glass. And though he tried to keep thinking that would be his call, deep down he knew Harry wouldn’t want to see him again either.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the dialogue and the smut weren’t too painful to read. Sex just had to enter this story, no matter how much I wanted to put it off. Anyway, I’m @goesbyvee in twitter if you want to come and say hi. :) p.s. The next update will probably take a bit longer. Now I just happened to have the drive (and willingness to slack off when it comes to my school work).


	3. Third Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm sorry this update took so long… but the next one will probably take just as long.
> 
> Disclaimer: While including characters based on the personas of real, existing persons, this story is a work of fiction and is absolutely not meant to imply anything about these persons, their lives, personalities, sexualities, relationships, opinions, or anyone connected to them.

 

 

“Do we have to watch it? I’m sick of seeing his face everywhere,” Louis whined.

And he really was. He was sick and tired of Harry’s face popping up in newspapers, TV-shows, interviews, all of it. Maybe he had his own motives for feeling that way, but the people he worked with seemed to understand his resentment towards Harry Styles all the same. Granted, they didn’t know all the reasons behind it, but that was not the point. The point was that they agreed with him. None of them really _liked_ Harry Styles. Some of them just seemed to think you have to keep your friends close and enemies closer, and if you can’t really get close to your enemies, at least you have to keep an eye on what they are up to.

That was the part Louis disagreed with. He had got enough of Harry in all levels, literally, figuratively, emotionally, physically and- yeah, that’s all.

“Louis, darling, this is my job. You’re going to be on that same show next week, and we need to know if they’ve been talking about you,” Jesy explained as she flicked her long hair back and turned to the television to put the volume louder.

Jesy was the person who did PR for Louis. She was really more of a friend of Liam’s, but as her personality was just as open and welcoming as her cleavage, Louis never had any trouble hitting it off with her. Maybe that sounded a bit weird coming from someone who had zero interest in women’s cleavages. It’s just that sometimes Louis found himself wondering how anyone like Jesy could be taken seriously in her branch of business. A woman who managed to be beautiful, kind and still ruthlessly efficient at the same time was someone that a lot of men would feel the need to put down in order to compliment their own egos. All Louis felt for Jesy was pure respect.

He just didn’t want to see Harry’s face on The Jonathan Ross Show.

“But you aren’t working right now. We’re supposed to be having fun!” Louis complained and slid his body a little deeper into the fluffy cream-coloured couch.

“Well, then you had better hope Harry embarrasses himself,” Jesy said. “Maybe not though, cause with that charming little face of his he’d just get all the pity points, even from the people who don’t like him.”

That was true. Actually, no matter how much Louis himself had always disliked Harry, he found it hard to imagine that anyone could ever really stay hating him. Just a bashful smile with those dimples popping and eyes sparkling and Harry would win people over. Now that Louis had firmly decided his little era of irrationality was permanently over, he found himself missing the texted pictures of Harry’s “morning foods”, all the puns too, no matter how bad he had thought they were at the time. He pushed it off his mind.

“You have no idea,” Louis mumbled under his breath.

He sipped his white wine as Liam and Sophia entered the room with a couple of Liam’s friends laughing about something. They had all gathered to Liam and Sophia’s place with plans to have a fun Saturday night eating and drinking with friends, but honestly Louis felt like it was more of a pity party for him, because Liam still thought he wasn’t over his breakup with Eleanor, and he didn’t want Louis spending the weekend alone in his apartment burrowed into the couch and eating his weight in junk food. Louis let Liam have that delusion. He was convinced the guy would get over it as soon as he’d notice that Louis was in fact completely fine.

He probably wasn’t helping his case with the way he was dwelling in what had happened with Harry a few days ago. He knew it either put a stormy or simply a devastated look on his face, depending on which point of view he was taking, but neither one was any good in convincing Liam that he was over Eleanor.

“Is the golden gay boy going to be on the TV?” Liam asked and took a seat in an armchair.

Sophia sat down by his feet like a loyal dog. Their relationship seemed a bit extreme to Louis. It was like they couldn’t stay apart. Sophia literally rather sat down on the floor than took her own chair, if it was her only chance to stay touching Liam. Sometimes Louis felt like Liam was kind of pressed to a corner by it, like maybe it was a bit too much for him, too intense. But he knew Liam wouldn’t give Sophia up for any cost, not even if it gave him breathing problems from time to time.

Louis had always found that kind of love hard to understand, but then again, it was none of his business.

“Shush, you. Styles will be on any minute now, I want to hear this,” Jesy said and planted herself on the couch between Louis and one of Liam’s friends, Andy something.

Right when she reached out to take her wine glass from the coffee table, the commercial break ended and Jonathan Ross came into view with, of course, Harry.

If Jesy made Louis wonder how she was taken seriously, Harry wasn’t any better off. The green-eyed man had his shirt once again only half way buttoned up, and… were those black boots _sparkling_? Louis took in a deep breath and let it out as a sigh of exasperation.

“What are those shoes?” the Andy-named guy was laughing.

“Oh, you’re off the loop, he always wears something weird like that,” Liam answered, shaking his head in disapproval.

It might have been just the wine making him feel woozy, but Louis felt increasingly uncomfortable sitting there and listening to his mates talk Harry down like that. He kind of wanted to just tell them to shut the fuck up, but he swallowed down the feeling. In the form of wine.

Why was he feeling this way? He owed Harry nothing. And Harry dressed extremely weirdly, even he thought so. There was nothing wrong with someone expressing the same thing out loud.

But the black jeans. The tight jeans looked good. _Oh God_ , he needed more of that wine.

At the beginning Harry was chatting with Jonathan Ross about quite predictable things, his views on gay marriage, blah, blah, blah. That had all been heard before. Liam’s friends quickly got bored of it and started chatting about something else amongst themselves while Jesy made sure they kept their voices low enough for her to still hear the TV.

Louis was staring at the way Harry’s lips moved as he spoke. He was thinking about the way they tasted, the way they felt and- yeah, not a good train of thought. He knew he was a little – well, a lot – helpless with this whole thing. He had completely crushed his chances of ever meeting Harry again, when he was sure he wouldn’t need it, or _want_ it. And he didn’t. But the problem was, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He had _fucking dreams_ about Harry sucking him off. He wished it wasn’t so, but he had to admit that somehow it was stuck in his subconscious, no matter how disgusted of himself it made him feel every time he thought back to it.

Then suddenly the discussion in the show wasn’t just irrelevant anymore. Louis’ focus picked up as Jonathan Ross reached under his chair to pull out a picture. A familiar-looking picture. Louis could feel cold sweat on his back, as Ross showed the picture to Harry and the camera.

“Does this look familiar, Harry?” Ross asked with a smirk on his face.

Harry leaned forward to take a better look at the photo, and the camera zoomed in on it.

“That’s you right?” Ross said as his bulky finger pointed out one of the boys in the front row of the group picture.

“Yeah, that’s me. Fourteen years old,” Harry said, and as the camera zoomed back to his face his smile looked a bit timid. An outsider probably couldn’t have noticed it.

“And that…” Ross said as the camera moved back to the picture and his finger was pointing to another boy. “Does that look like anyone familiar?”

“Oh, right,” Harry just said.

It was an old photo of their football team back in Holmes Chapel. Louis heart was beating faster than ever. He realized that this show was probably the biggest publicity Harry had got so far. Millions of people were watching it right now, including all of his friends in this room and probably his mother, his sister, everyone. If Harry wanted to shit on Louis' career and person, this was his best chance to do so. If Harry was going to bring the past out, or if he was going to bring _three-days-ago_ out, this would be it. He could fucking _end_ Louis.

Louis’ limbs suddenly felt so numb he wasn’t sure if holding a wine glass in his hand was a good idea right at the moment. At least he was already sitting down.

“Holy _shit_ , is that you?” Jesy shrieked at the same time as Ross gleefully went on: “It’s Minister Tomlinson, isn’t it?”

After that everyone in Liam’s living room was completely silent, their own conversations forgotten. Every single pair of eyes was on the TV, and for a moment, right before Harry answered Ross, it was so quiet you could have heard a fruit fly flap its wings.

“Yeah, we played in the same team once, as hard as that might be to believe now,” Harry said and leaned back in his seat, clasping his hands in his lap.

“What the hell, Louis? Is this real?” Liam asked in a stunned voice.

Liam didn’t usually curse much, and when he did, that was saying a lot. Louis just shook his head and concentrated on praying they would change the subject before Harry would blurt out something he wouldn’t be able to take back.

“How is that even possible? Isn’t he quite a lot older than you?” Ross demanded to know laughingly.

“Just a couple of years, if I remember right. Holmes Chapel is a small place, so we didn’t have enough players to make teams for all kids of different ages,” Harry explained.

Louis was trying to read into Harry’s facial expressions and body language, but it didn’t help him one bit. One minute he was sure Harry looked discomforted by the situation and the next moment the smile on Harry’s face looked malefic like he was just about to bring Louis’ deepest, darkest secrets into the light.

“Right, so did you also go to the same school?” Ross questioned. “What was he like back then? The same kind of a jerk as now?”

Jesy placed her hand on Louis knee and turned to him with a determined look in her eyes.

“You, my friend, are _not_ going to this show. We will figure out something else. If I have to suck Graham Norton’s dick to get you there, I will.”

“Please don’t,” Louis answered her, a bit horrified of the mental image.

Jesy just patted his knee reassuringly and turned back to the screen.

“He was, erm, very good at football,” Harry said, seeming a bit like he was at a loss of words. “People liked him.”

He shrugged and crossed his legs. Then he crossed them the other way.

“C’mon, give us the dirt. Was he a bully, was he the class clown? I bet people liked you more than him,” Ross pushed on.

“Not really. People liked me just okay, but to be honest I was a bit of a dork back then. Louis was always the first of his class, he was good at pretty much everything he did. I was just a really, really bad goalie,” Harry said, flashing a self-deprecating smile.

“Look at you, taking the highroad,” Ross commented.

“I just don’t have a reason to put anyone down based on the past, no matter what differences we may have in the present,” Harry shrugged.

That’s when Liam reached out to grab the remote from Jesy. He flicked the TV off saying: “Alright, I’ve had enough of this crap.”

“I was watching that!” Jesy protested loudly.

She didn’t seem too bothered by Liam’s actions, though, because as soon as she was done reprimanding Liam, she turned to Louis with a contented smile on her face.

“I swear that man is a _saint_. I wish he wasn’t gay, I’d totally go for him. Well, maybe if he cut his hair. Anyway, I know you don’t like him, but you _have to_ promise me that if I get you to The Graham Norton Show, you won’t say one nasty word about that angel. You realize how bad that would look after the way he was talking about you, right?” Jesy insisted.

“I’m a politician, I can talk diplomatically. How little do you think of me?” Louis frowned at her.

“I know, I know. But this is very important,” Jesy said and then she randomly changed the topic: “Your glass is empty. We need more wine, c’mon, love!”

She jumped up, grabbing both of their glasses and making her way towards the kitchen. Louis stood up to follow her, but he was interrupted by Liam’s inquiring voice.

“How come had I never heard of this before?” Liam asked. “I didn’t even know you both used to live in the same town.”

Louis tilted his head and pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, thinking of a way to dodge the question. Luckily for him, the other people in the room had already immersed themselves in their own little conversation. Besides Liam, Sophia seemed to be the only one taking a curious glance at Louis’ direction and waiting for his answer.

“The past is the past. It’s not like we were ever friends,” Louis answered, all according to the truth.

Then he excused himself and followed Jesy to the kitchen. Once he knew he was out of Liam’s sight, he stopped for a minute and took a deep breath. He wished he didn’t have to go through this whole rollercoaster of feelings in front of all his friends. It wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t fair that Harry had to be so damn nice. Of course Louis was relieved that Harry hadn’t let anything inconvenient slip past his lips, but it was just painful how _guilty_ Harry was able to make him feel by just being _nice_. Louis didn’t have time to think about it any further, though, because Jesy’s tinkling voice was calling his name from the kitchen.

“I’m coming!” Louis answered and moved towards the kitchen.

Jesy was pouring herself another glass of white wine, and she motioned for Louis to move the other glass closer to her, so she could pour some wine for him, too. Louis pushed the glass towards her and then moved to lean his hip to the counter behind her, so she wouldn’t get the chance to study his face too closely. He had no idea what she would find there right now.

“Should we put this into the fridge for a while? Or will it be too cold then?” Jesy asked to herself while holding up the half-emptied bottle of wine.

“I have no idea. I don’t even know what the temperature should be,” Louis said, shaking his head.

“Okay, well, then we’ll just put it in the fridge,” Jesy decided. “I hope no one minds too much. Personally I think wine should rather be cold than too warm.”

“As long as the percentage is high enough, I don’t really care either way,” Louis mumbled as an answer, as Jesy handed him his glass.

Jesy smiled, and they clinked their glasses briefly to nothing.

“Cheers,” Jesy said half-heartedly and took a sip before she turned her way too knowing gaze to Louis’ eyes.

“So, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Louis tried, eyes wide.

But the look on Jesy’s face spoke of the utmost disbelief. His bullshit just wasn’t cutting through. Considering how much he lied on a daily basis, he was surprisingly bad at fooling the ones who actually knew him at all.

“Just spit it out,” Jesy coaxed. “You were nervous about what Harry would say, weren’t you? Why is that? If there’s a possibility that he would have said something awful, that’s definitely something I should know about, but now I’m just asking as a _friend_.”

Louis turned his gaze to look somewhere past Jesy’s shoulder. Obviously he couldn’t just spill the whole truth, but he didn’t feel like making excuses either. Maybe he just felt like not lying for once. There was something that actually really bothered him about that interview, something that had bothered him for a longer time than he would like to admit.

“It’s not that he – Styles – said anything bad. He didn’t, which just… well, you seem to think highly of him because of that,” Louis rambled on without really being sure where his speech was taking him.

Suddenly Jesy lowered herself to sit on the floor. She tugged on Louis sleeve until he followed. Sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor with his rep, spilling secrets from the past he would rather just forget. Way to go, Minister Tomlinson.

“So, if it wasn’t anything he said, what was it that bothered you?”

“It was more like something that Jonathan Ross said,” Louis confessed, lowering his voice.

The chattering in the living room could still be heard. To Louis that just meant that if he spoke too loudly, everyone would hear him. Maybe what he was about to say wasn’t really as shameful as he thought. Maybe he wouldn’t really care, if Liam heard about it. But he felt like he needed this to be a one-on-one confession.

It had all happened over fifteen years ago, but the memories he had carried within himself had been churning deep inside him for all that time. And it didn’t seem like he would get rid of them any time soon. Over time they had only grown to be bigger and darker and scarier, eating away on him and making him feel hollow. He had tried to push the self-loathing away, but there was no place where he could hide from himself. Maybe it was time to share the load. Not to seek for forgiveness or to push some of the responsibility away, but just to see how it would feel like to say those things out loud, to come face to face with the truth.

“He wasn’t wrong, you know. Harry – Styles – didn’t confirm nor deny it, but Ross wasn’t wrong when he reckoned I was a bully at school. I was a complete ass, the worst,” Louis said and then pinched his lips together.

“As in, to everyone or just to Harry Styles?” Jesy questioned.

Her head was a little tilted, curiously, not judgingly. The look in her eyes was soft, like she knew Louis had done something wrong, but she was able to look past that by taking into account that it wasn’t her place to neither judge nor forgive him. She had nothing to do with it. She was just listening. And maybe that was the best reaction Louis could have possibly hoped for.

“Mostly him, I guess,” Louis said and paused before adding: “He was always openly who he is and I guess I didn’t like that. I handled it wrong.”

Jesy stretched her legs in front of her and took a sip of her wine before saying anything.

“Have you ever talked about it with him afterwards? Ever apologized?” she asked then.

Louis shook his head and lowered his gaze.

“I just feel like it’s been so long. We didn’t really ever talk after I moved away. Not until recently, you know, because of the political issues.”

Jesy hummed quietly to herself.

“I’d just feel stupid if I tried to bring it up now. It’s complicated. And it’s really so far in the past,” Louis added, as he didn’t feel like Jesy quite agreed with him.

“But don’t you think you’d feel better if you apologized? No matter how much time has gone past, you’re still thinking about this,” Jesy pointed out.

Yeah, he should have just never said anything. Of course Jesy couldn’t understand how complicated the matter actually was, and it was none of her fault. Of course she knew nothing about what happened in the locker room on one of those last days before Louis’ family moved to Doncaster. Of course she couldn’t possibly know anything about how Harry had laughed at him, making him feel so small that he still felt like shrinking when he just thought about it. And of course Jesy had no idea about the fact that due to what had happened just a few days ago, Louis and Harry wouldn’t talk again, probably ever. So, there goes the chance of any kind of apology.

“I’ll consider it,” Louis said anyway, just to shut her up. “No promises, but I’ll think about it.”

 

\---

 

By the time Louis was leaving Liam and Sophia’s flat, he had downed a couple more glasses of wine and that shot of gin that Sophia insisted upon. It had obviously tasted horrible, and it wasn’t hard to understand why Sophia was so eager to get rid of it by making her guests drink it. Louis made a mental vow to stick to fine cognacs in the future.

However, he wasn’t feeling drunk at all, when he and Jesy finally stepped out into the night, having said their goodbyes to Liam and Sophia. Jesy had suggested they could share a cab, but Louis felt like he wanted to walk for a while, and Jesy had noted that the underground was still open. Louis had been absorbed in his phone while Jesy checked when the last train would leave, but apparently they still had time, because at the moment they were walking slowly towards the station. The night air was cold, and Louis wrapped his jacket tighter around himself as he glanced down at his phone for one more time.

“I need to get to Hammersmith,” he said then, snapping his head up. “Do you know which lines go there?”

Jesy frowned her eyebrows at him.

“You don’t live that way, do you? Why are you going to Hammersmith?” she asked.

“I’m seeing a mate,” Louis said, though he wasn’t quite sure himself if this was a good idea.

When Harry had said that with enough of the right connections it isn’t hard to find out where someone lives, he hadn’t been wrong. Louis realized that now. Something was buzzing in his blood. It wasn’t alcohol. To start feeling drunk he would need at least a bottle and a half of wine. Maybe it was just the night, the crazy ideas lurking in the darkness and waiting to mess with his head. Maybe he was just going crazy. That must be it. The need to do this just felt so urgent, so compulsive. He felt like there was no way he would turn around, take a cab and go home like any normal, sane person would do. He had already made up his mind.

“Okay,” Jesy said, shaking her head a bit unbelievingly. “Piccadilly goes there, and the last train hasn’t gone yet. We’ll have to change at Green Park, though.”

“Are you going that way, too?”

“Yeah, I actually live that way, unlike some,” Jesy said and shed him an unreadable look. “My stop is the next one after Hammersmith.”

“Alright, then we’re going in the same direction,” Louis smiled at her, ignoring the curiosity in her gaze.

Louis liked traveling by the tube. Somehow it always made him feel like a true Londoner, walking in the echoing metro tunnels and standing in wait on the shadowed platforms. At this hour the trains were full of tourists and partygoers. A few people looked like they had worked late and were returning home.

As Louis and Jesy changed trains at Green Park station, they were just in time for the last train of Piccadilly line. Obviously it was packed, but fortunately no one seemed to pay any attention to Louis. That was definitely part of why Louis didn’t mind traveling in the tube, despite Liam’s warnings. Usually in the underground trains no one ever took any notice of the fact that he happened to be kind of a public character. The travellers minded their own business, reading books or listening to music with their headphones in, or talking to their friends. And if someone had absolutely nothing to do, they settled for staring out the windows as the black walls of the tunnels passed by. No one looked him in the eye.

Louis could feel the curiosity radiating from Jesy, as they stood side by side close to the doors of the carriage and clutched the yellow rails to stay upwards. Thankfully she didn’t bring up Louis’ sudden need to see a mate in Hammersmith at almost midnight, though. Maybe she could sense that the topic was off limits.

“I’ll sort out your interview situation the first thing on Monday,” she said instead, as they were finally nearing the Hammersmith station.

“Alright. That’s good,” Louis answered distractedly.

He didn’t mean to be rude. He was just feeling way too much anticipation to deal with small talk at the moment. He wasn’t really sure what he even expected to happen, if he ended up behind Harry’s door, especially at this hour. He could envision the image of Harry arching a brow, surprised, but disinterested enough to remain nonchalant. Harry was good at showing his feelings, better than Louis. But he was also good at making Louis feel like he was wrong about everything. He didn’t like that feeling. So why the hell was he seeking out for Harry? He realized he had no idea what he was doing.

But he just couldn’t turn back now.

“Well, this is your stop,” Jesy pointed out as the train slowed down at the station.

“Right,” Louis mumbled. “See you on Monday. Take care.”

They hugged briefly before the doors opened and Louis stepped out with all the other late night travellers who trudged their way out of the small shopping centre in which the station was located.

As soon as Louis stepped onto the street he tapped Harry’s address to the navigator in his phone. It was getting colder, and it would be fruitless to just start wandering around in an area he wasn’t that familiar with. He was relieved to find out Harry lived really close to the underground station. According to the navigator it would only take him a few minutes to walk there. So, at least if Harry decided to not let him in, he wouldn’t have a long way to come back to where he could find a cab to take him home.

Just a couple of street corners later Louis was standing outside a small dark brown semi-detached brickhouse, and the navigator let him know that he had arrived in his destination. The house looked just the same as all the other houses on the street, the same as most houses in this whole part of town, but to Louis it looked a lot more intimidating.

He took a deep breath. But he had to move. If he started reconsidering this now, he would just end up finding a million excuses to turn around and go back home. And if he did that, he would feel like he failed, no doubt. He would go back to feeling just as miserable as he had for the past days.

That thought was all the motivation he needed to click open the little gate and take the last few steps that brought him onto Harry’s doorstep. Before he could give himself too much time to think, he pressed the button to ring the bell. Right after he had done that, it occurred to him that Harry might be sleeping. Or someone else. What if Harry didn’t even live alone? What would he say to his flatmate?

But then Louis heard quiet steps from the inside. It was too late to regret, no matter how much he felt like throwing up.

As the door was pushed open, for a moment no one made a sound. Harry looked sleep-ruffled, his hair a soft mess and a pillow crease on his cheek. The urge to throw up turned into a swarm of butterflies in Louis’ stomach. Louis wasn’t sure which one was worse.

Harry looked surprised, but not mad, not like he was going to slam the door to Louis’ face. That was a good sign, right?

“So this is how we keep meeting. Surprise visits at a time when the other person expects it to be someone else entirely,” Harry said sleepily, voice a bit rough, and leaned his side on the door frame.

“Oh, were you expecting someone?” Louis asked stupidly, then changing his course of speech: “Weren’t you sleeping?”

“No, not really. I just fell asleep, I guess,” Harry shook his head. “I thought my flatmate forgot his keys or something. He just left, not too long ago.”

“Okay. Well…” Louis didn’t know where to go from there.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, taking the lead in the conversation as Louis seemed to have lost it.

At this point Louis was almost sure he could see traces of suspicion and resentment seep into Harry’s gaze, settle in like he just remembered that the last time they met didn’t quite go according to plan. If there ever was a plan.

Louis could use a plan right now.

He had no idea how to answer Harry’s question, so he just shrugged and stared at the ground in fear of what he would find if he let himself stare at Harry instead.

There was a beat in which Louis was sure Harry would just shake his head disappointedly, close the door and leave Louis standing alone in the cold night. He braced himself for the rejection. But it never came. Eventually Louis dared another glance at Harry’s face.

Harry was staring at him with a million questions shining through. And Louis just knew that answering all of them would be way too complicated for him. He could only hope Harry wouldn’t put them into words. Not now, at least. But there was something else in Harry’s eyes, too. That same quizzical feeling Louis had recognized before, but still couldn’t name. He felt oddly relieved having seen that that something he couldn’t put a finger on wasn’t gone. It only intensified the buzz in his blood he had felt ever since he left Liam and Sophia’s flat. And Louis felt like he wanted to revel in that buzz, even if he knew he should be resisting it instead.

“Do you want to come in?” Harry asked suddenly.

He sounded like he half expected Louis to turn him down. But Louis just nodded, hanging onto the small chance he had been given. He was foolish like that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, I think we can all agree that this was kinda crappy and short, but I can guarantee the next chapter will actually be worth the wait. The only reason I posted this now is because I finally figured out how to go on from here. Also, I don’t know if it’s common in the UK to interview politicians in talk shows, but in Finland (where I’m from) it’s done all the time, so if that’s not the case in England I hope you’re just able to play along… I’m @goesbyvee in twitter if you want to come and say hi. :) All your comments and kudos and bookmarking are greatly appreciated!! xx


	4. Fourth Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Louis calls Harry Sir. That’s all the summary you’re going to need. Once again, sorry about the long wait for an update. I hope no one hates me too much for it.
> 
> Warnings: Harry might seem a bit manipulative here, but I would still say all of the sex is 100% consensual. But if you feel like manipulative behaviour/talking during sex or leading to sex might be triggering for you, you might want to skip the smut part of this chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: While including characters based on the personas of real, existing persons, this story is a work of fiction and is absolutely not meant to imply anything about these persons, their lives, personalities, sexualities, relationships, opinions, or anyone connected to them.

 

 

Louis kicked off his shoes by the door and trailed his way deeper into the house. He felt awkward. He could feel Harry’s eyes still staring at his back, and he didn’t want to meet his gaze. He shouldn’t have been surprised of how horrible this situation turned out to be. He had regretted coming to Harry’s house even before he pressed the button of the doorbell.

But here he was. He looked around himself just so he wouldn’t have to turn back and look at Harry. The entry hallway was basically inexistent. He only had to take a couple of steps to find himself in the living room. At the side of the room there was an open doorway leading into the adjoining kitchen and next to it was another door closed. There was a shadowed stairway leading into the second floor. It didn’t surprise Louis that Harry had a flatmate, because the house would have been quite big for just one person, considering that most of the work that Harry did probably paid him nothing. At least that’s how Louis imagined an activist’s life would be. He wouldn’t really know.

“Were you watching Finding Nemo?” Louis asked by impulse as he noticed the orange clownfish on the TV-screen that was sending flickering blue light over the living room furniture.

“Not really. I fell asleep, remember?” Harry mumbled behind Louis’ back.

Then Harry walked into the kitchen and flicked on the light over the sink. Louis didn’t know what else to do but to follow him. He stayed leaning to the doorframe, not daring to go any further, because then he would have had to squeeze past Harry. The room was narrow and there wasn’t much space between the table and where Harry was stood at.

“Do you want anything? Anything to drink?” Harry asked.

“Just water,” Louis answered quietly.

Harry gave him a glass of water and then backed off to where he was standing before. Louis sipped his water and wondered if they were just going to avoid the touchy subject. It didn’t seem like Harry was going to address the situation. They just both stood there quietly, and every second that passed by made Louis’ insides shrivel up a little more. Harry wasn’t even looking at him anymore, staring out of the window into the darkness of the street instead. Louis knew he had to be the one to start the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

He knew he should elaborate it a bit further, but he felt ashamed. It was hard enough to apologize even without voicing what exactly he was apologizing for. They both knew the cause, and they both knew Louis was just a coward.

Harry still wasn’t looking at him, so Louis started to panic a little. He had to do something, say something more. He had to get this right.

“I just… I’m sorry, I got scared and I didn’t know what to do,” Louis rambled. “I… I don’t know what I want.”

That’s when Harry turned his gaze to Louis. There was a burning in his eyes that Louis wasn’t ready for. But he didn’t turn away. He couldn’t now. He was sure this would be his only chance to set things straight with Harry, and he couldn’t waste it. If he gave in to his own fear now, all he would have to go back to would be his misery. He didn’t know where exactly that burning was going to lead him, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be any worse than the feelings of failure and self-hatred Louis would undeniably have to face if he caved in now.

“I figured as much,” Harry said.

His arms were crossed on his chest as he leaned his hip to the kitchen counter, and the look in his eyes, right behind the burning, was unreadable. Louis wasn’t sure if Harry was mad at him or not.

“Come here.”

The command was quiet but so solid. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat. Shivers went down his back as he stepped closer to Harry.

Harry was waiting. So Louis stepped even closer, now standing between Harry and the table, just a few inches between them. He had a feeling of where this would lead. But he couldn’t possibly be right about it, could he? By all indicators Harry should want nothing to do with him by now.

But Harry moved closer. He leaned in and placed his hands on the table behind Louis’ back, bracketing him between Harry’s body and the table. Louis was standing exactly on the spot he had been the most scared of all along. He felt his heart pounding in his throat and he wasn’t sure if it was because he knew this shouldn’t be happening or because the white t-shirt Harry was wearing emphasized his biceps, making them look even bulkier and stronger than they usually did. All Louis wanted to do was touch, but he kept his own hands firmly clasped in front of him.

Louis tried to hang onto the fading little sounds of sanity inside of his mind. He should be pushing Harry away, he should just leave. He should be nothing but scared. He had no idea what was coming next. It could be a fist or a kiss. But Louis’ fear was seeping away as he looked into Harry’s eyes, and the unreadable look in them had turned into something more confident, something resolute. Maybe it was crazy, but that look of determination made Louis feel _safe_.

Harry wouldn’t hurt him. And even if he wanted to, Louis would probably just let him. If this was just a joke to Harry, after all, Louis could take it. It would be nothing he hadn’t borne before.

“So you don’t know what you want,” Harry said.

It wasn’t a question. Just a neutral statement. But it felt like a nudge for Louis to say something more. Harry didn’t ask for anything, not out loud. But his relentless gaze felt like a firm hand pushing Louis into the right direction. Or maybe not right, Louis knew nothing about “right” by this point. It was just the direction that Harry wanted to take. And Louis decided to be courageous enough to follow.

“But you do,” he said so quietly it was hardly more than a whisper.

“You think so?” Harry asked.

His hands were suddenly trailing up Louis’ sides, fingers slithering under the hem of his shirt, and Louis let out a surprised little gasp. Harry stepped even closer, their bodies now aligned, hips touching, Louis' hands trapped between their stomachs.

“Yeah,” Louis breathed out his answer to Harry’s question while he could still remember a question had been posed.

Harry leaned his head down to connect their lips, and just the fact that he was taller than Louis was heady. Louis’ eyes glided shut as soon as he could feel Harry’s lips grazing his. He knew he was being reckless, and he knew he should have at least pretended to have an ounce of self-control, a little bit of resistance, no matter how feeble. But there was something about the way Harry insistently licked his lips open that made all of his walls crumble. He didn’t care if he was making a fool of himself. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the second.

Harry’s hand had found its way to Louis’ jaw, tilting his head back for better access. Louis’ knuckles were touching Harry’s abdomen and he moved his hands higher, feeling Harry’s chest and broad shoulders. He responded to every little move Harry made as if he was in a trance.

But then Harry suddenly broke the kiss and leaned back. He grabbed Louis’ hips and turned him around so fast that Louis wasn’t sure what was happening, until his palms were pressed to the table top to keep himself upright, as Harry pressed his body against his back. When Harry’s hand trailed down to cup between his legs, Louis felt himself getting even harder than he already was. It was kind of embarrassing, kind of frightening, but Louis let himself revel in the feeling.

“I think you’re right, you know,” Harry spoke into his ear between the hungry kisses he planted on the side of his neck. “I do know what you want. But… Even the best of us are mistaken sometimes. If you tell me to stop, I will.”

Louis wanted to scream _no, keep going_ , but it came out as something like a quiet, desperate “ngh”, as Harry kissed him with fervour one more time.

Then Harry’s lips were gone, his hot breath disappeared from Louis’ neck. Louis turned his head to see what Harry was up to behind his back, but he couldn’t fully turn around as Harry still had a firm grip on his hips. Harry was kneeling behind him, and Louis wanted to ask him what he was doing, but he decided against it. Too many silly questions might dampen the mood, and Louis didn’t want to be the one to call quits on this. And anyway, he got a pretty clear idea of what was happening as soon as Harry undid his flies and slid his jeans all the way to his ankles. He tightened his grip on the edge of the table, when his briefs followed and cool air hit his bum, cock bouncing free, hard and heavy.

He felt more exposed than ever, as Harry was just sitting there, staring at his bum. It only got more humiliating when Harry grabbed his cheeks and spread them apart.

Louis was five seconds away from backing off and saying he can’t do this, but then he felt Harry’s breath blowing air on his hole, like he was just testing the waters and… well, it felt good. A feeling Louis didn’t even recognize tingled up his spine and all the way down his legs, making them feel a bit wobbly. He had to close his eyes and take deep breaths. Anything he had ever done with a girl hadn’t been this exciting. Maybe he was just turned on by the fact that he was doing something he knew he shouldn’t do.

A squeaking sound escaped Louis’ mouth and his jaw dropped open, when he felt the tip of Harry’s tongue touching the skin right beside his hole. Harry licked over the hole and placed kisses on the rim. He didn’t give Louis any time to overthink what was happening before he was lapping over Louis’ hole like his life depended on it. But holy _shit_ , Harry’s _tongue_ was touching his _asshole_. And it felt _good_.

Louis’ remembered how he had felt when Harry had kissed him in his living room. Like landing in heaven. But now he realized that back then he had known nothing about heaven. _This_ was heaven. Those same lips that just mere minutes ago glided over his mouth were now pressed against his bum.

Louis had lost his surroundings. He was just floating on the pleasurable feeling, nearing his peak in an accelerating pace. He was panting, eyes closed, just concentrating on the feeling of Harry’s big hands rubbing all over his thighs and bum, occasionally brushing his balls, but not touching him where he needed it the most. But then he felt Harry’s tongue push past his rim and lick _from the inside_.

“I’m coming, I’m- Ah!” Louis moaned out in a desperate tone that would have made him feel embarrassed if he wasn’t so lost in the feeling of ecstasy.

But then Harry’s tongue was gone and Louis was left clenching around nothing. His eyes flew open. He hadn’t come yet. He supposed he might have needed some kind of stimulation on his cock for that to happen, but why wasn’t Harry giving it to him? Why had he stopped?

“Without touching? I don’t think so,” Harry smirked as he stood up and pressed himself against Louis’ back once again. He placed his hands low on Louis’ stomach and spoke into his ear: “You’re not coming. Not yet. Not before I do.”

Then Harry grinded his hips against Louis backside, and he could feel how hard Harry was. So did that mean Harry actually got _enjoyment_ out of eating Louis out? Louis’ eyes fluttered shut and a full-bodied shiver went up his spine.

“What do you want me to do?” Louis asked and placed his hands over Harry’s much bigger ones.

He was so turned on he felt like if he didn’t get to come in the next few minutes his balls would just burst. Harry’s hands were so close to where he desperately wanted to feel friction, but he was clearly just teasing with no intention of touching Louis’ member, or letting him touch himself. And Louis didn’t dare to go against anything Harry said. Not at this point, when his mind was so clouded with desire he didn’t think he’d be able to put together a reasonable decision. He just had to wait for Harry’s guidance.

“Let me think,” Harry dragged out his speech and slid one of his hands up Louis’ chest, bunching his shirt up as he went.

Louis groaned out as he felt Harry pinching his nipple, then rubbing over it. Harry only let go of him for long enough to push the shirt over his head. Then his hands were back on Louis’ hips, turning him back around to face him.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Harry said.

His green eyes were locked on Louis’ like he was waiting for an answer, a challenge hidden behind his irises. Louis just nodded. He didn’t want to be asked any questions. He wanted Harry to take the reins. And fortunately Harry seemed to catch his train of thought, as he grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the kitchen. He led them into the room right next to the kitchen, the one that had its door closed.

Louis had a bit of trouble following, since his pants were still tangled up in his ankles, but as soon as they got into the room that was only lit up by a single lamp on the bedside table, Harry pushed him onto the bed, face first, and pulled his socks and bunched up pants off his feet. He threw them into a corner and crawled onto the bed. Louis expected him to lay over his body, but instead Harry just grabbed Louis legs from the kneecaps and pushed them forward, forcing him to get up on his knees so that his ass was sticking up, upper body still pressed to the mattress.

He hadn’t thought it would be possible, but now he felt even more exposed than before. He was completely naked, while Harry still had all his clothes on. On top of that his ass was sticking up in the air, and he could only imagine what an obscene view it created for Harry’s observation. He clasped the sheets in his hands and turned his face to the side so it wouldn’t be squished into the mattress and he could keep gulping in shaky breaths.

Harry leaned over him and ran his fingertips along his sides, all the way to his shoulders, making the hairs on Louis’s skin stand up. Then he grasped Louis’ wrists.

“Don’t move. Don’t touch yourself. Only I get to touch,” Harry listed his rules, breath tickling by Louis’ neck. “And in my bed you’re going to call me _Sir_. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” Louis breathed out.

Suddenly one of Harry’s hands let go of his wrist, and the next thing he knew, he was gasping as a harsh slap hit his right bum cheek. His body tried to jolt forward, away from the sudden sting of pain, but Harry was still holding onto one of his wrists and encompassing him, making it impossible to escape.

“Yes _who_?” Harry’s voice demanded to know, his hand still resting on Louis’ bum as if to be ready to slap it again, if Louis wouldn’t come up with the right answer.

“Sir! Yes, _Sir_!” Louis hurried to correct himself.

“You were always so quick to learn, weren’t you?” Harry chuckled, as he rubbed over Louis’ stinging bum.

Then he pulled back. Louis mind was clouded by anticipation, but it didn’t take long before Harry was touching him again. With his left hand he kneaded the flesh of Louis’ bum cheek, as the fingers of his right hand were rubbing circles against his hole. Louis flinched at the feeling of the cold lube against his heated skin, but _God_ , did he want this to happen. He hadn’t even realized just how much, before the tip of Harry’s middle finger was pushing through the tight ring of muscle. Louis gasped a little and found himself trying to sink further towards Harry’s knuckle, but Harry’s firm grip on his hips kept him at place.

“Don’t get too greedy,” Harry reprimanded and gave his bum a gentle slap, one that didn’t sting like the first one. “You’ve done this to yourself before, haven’t you?”

Louis was ashamed to admit it, but yes, he had done this before. Sometimes in the late hours of the night, when he was all alone in his apartment and he couldn’t sleep, and nothing was helping. Those were the shameful moments when his pride gave way to experimental touches that he forced himself to forget by the morning, as if they never took place.

“Yes, Sir,” he mumbled into the sheets.

Harry heard him anyway. He didn’t scold him for mumbling, like Louis half expected. He just hummed thoughtfully and kept thrusting his finger past the knuckle.

“How many fingers?” he asked.

“Two,” Louis answered after a pause.

“Then the second one will still be easy,” Harry said.

He placed a surprisingly gentle kiss on the bum cheek he had slapped earlier, and pushed the second finger in slowly. Louis wasn’t sure if it was the little kiss or the finger that made him feel all heady and floaty. Maybe it was the overwhelming combination of sweet gentleness and harsh authority, the kind that Louis hadn’t ever witnessed from anyone other than Harry. It was so weird, but _God_ , did it feel great.

“Which one do you prefer, though? My fingers or yours?” Harry asked, and there was a hint of a grin in his voice, as though he could already predict the answer.

And he probably could.

“You really want me to say it?” Louis groaned just to be a prat, even while Harry was causing him so much pleasure. “Yours, of course, Sir. I can’t quite… reach the same way by myself.”

“How about a third finger, then?” Harry asked, but didn’t really wait for an answer before Louis felt the tip of a third finger pushing at his rim.

There was a slight sting of pain, after all this was the most he had ever taken up his bum, but somehow it hurt less than he had expected. The great amounts of lube Harry was using made it a whole lot easier. As did the way he was curling his fingers now on each thrust, making them rub against that spot that Louis was never really fully able to reach on his own.

He felt his eyes get wet just for the pure ecstasy of it. Suddenly he realised the room was a lot noisier than it had been before, and the grunting and uncontrollable moaning only stopped when he realized it was coming from his own mouth. But then Harry thrusted his fingers against that tingling spot again, and another grunt escaped Louis’ lips like he just couldn’t help it.

“Please, please, I’m ready, Sir,” he heard himself moan desperately. “Stop, I’m ready!”

He didn’t really want to stop. He wanted to come, and he was literally seconds away from it, when Harry finally withdrew his fingers. But he knew that if he came now, he would be just a dead weight after it. He wasn’t a teenager controlled by his lusty hormones anymore, even though at the moment Harry sort of made him feel like one.

“On your back,” Harry instructed and helped him turn around.

Once Louis was lying on his back, still panting, he came aware of how wrecked he must look already. Pupils blown, hair askew, cheeks red, and cock resting heavy and leaky on his tummy. He felt self-conscious for a moment, as Harry had stopped all movement just to stare at him. For some reason in this position, face to face, Louis’ felt even more vulnerable than he ever could with his back to Harry, even with his ass up and on display.

But the hesitance in the air was short-lived, as Harry leaned over him and kissed him more hungrily than he ever had before. It wasn’t even desperate or lust-driven, just solid, like they both needed something to hold onto. Louis tangled his fists into Harry’s long curls and pulled him closer. Harry’s hands held onto his sides, then slid down to his thighs to push them apart and up.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked as his cock was rubbing against Louis’ hole.

Louis hadn’t even realized that in the time before Louis turned onto his back Harry had already put a condom on.

They weren’t kissing anymore. Harry was just sort of rubbing his face all over Louis’, and somehow that was even more intimate than kissing or fingering or rimming. It was like… Harry wanted them to blend together or something. Nothing made any sense to Louis anymore. He just needed this.

“Yes,” he said, and Harry pulled back to read his expression.

As Harry slowly pushed past Louis' rim, they were staring each other in the eye. Louis wanted to look away or close his eyes, but he just couldn’t. He realized he was holding his breath until Harry’s tip was in and he stopped for a moment to make sure Louis was still alright. That’s when he drew in a shaky breath.

Of course he had noticed that Harry was quite big, but he just hadn’t expected a cock to feel that… different, compared to fingers. It felt bigger.

Harry didn’t ask more question, though. He didn’t ask if Louis was still okay, he just braced himself with his palms against the mattress and kept staring at Louis' face to find all the answers he needed, as he carefully slid in all the way. He tentatively made a couple of small thrusts, then adjusted his position to have more leeway, and repeated the little thrusts.

That’s when Louis' eyes rolled to the back of his head. He was seeing stars. It didn’t hurt anymore. At all. He was convinced that this was the only way… this was the only way. He was sure that his cock was leaking like crazy, making a pool onto his stomach, but he didn’t care. He just concentrated on holding onto that mind-blowing feeling that would dissipate way too soon if he let go and climaxed. He was on the edge and no matter how desperately he wanted to leap over it, something was keeping him from giving up. Harry had said, _not before I do_. That was it.

Louis reached behind his knees and pulled them closer to his chest to help Harry thrust deeper.

“Come, please, Sir, please come in me,” he groaned.

He didn’t know where the words came from. It just seemed like a logical conclusion to beg. The sooner he got Harry to come, the sooner he could do so himself. Of course he could just go against Harry’s commands, but he didn’t want to. Something in him was sure that if he came before Harry did, his orgasm would be impure, incomplete, just not as great as it could build out to be in its full potential.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Harry grunted when he heard Louis’ begging.

Maybe that was a kink of his, because Louis was almost sure he could see something dark and lustful flash in Harry’s eyes as his arms almost gave out and he adjusted his position again, and started a harder pace. He was still reaching Louis’ prostate on every thrust, which turned Louis into a panting mess and made it almost impossible to form words anymore.

“Please, please… pelase come,” he moaned out.

A shout escaped Harry’s lips as he reached his peak, collapsing over Louis and biting his shoulder quite hard as he trembled through his orgasm.

He managed to still push into Louis a couple of times as he reached a hand down between them to touch Louis’ aching member. He had been ready to burst for way too long, and a small touch was all it took for him to fly over the edge. His vision went completely blank, full of sparkles, he couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t known he could come like that, the touch on his cock becoming painful, but only slowly. The orgasm lasted longer than it ever had, like it was purposely drawn out, fireworks taming into unhurried bliss, the stars still dancing on the edges of his vision when Harry withdrew his hand and moved just enough to get his softening cock out of Louis and throw the condom off, then collapsing back over him, uncaring of the mess Louis had made between their stomachs.

The ringing in Louis ears didn’t stop for a long time even once it was all over. It slowly turned into a quiet buzz, then back to a tiny long beep that faded away as he took in big breaths.

“You… you’re heavy,” Louis remarked in a neutral tone, just testing out his ability of speech.

“You’re messy,” Harry croaked, apparently with no intention to move.

They lied there for a moment, and Louis' mind was pretty much blank. By the time when Harry finally pulled himself up and went into the bathroom, Louis was already half asleep. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he should leave, but in the front of his mind there was something much louder telling him to just sleep. He felt something wet wiping over his stomach and between his thighs, then a cover drawn over his body. Maybe that was Harry.

But the brush of lips against his cheek must have already been a dream.

 

\---

 

A bright light shining in Louis’ eyes pulled him from the blissful state of unconsciousness. He reached a hand out to grab his phone from the bedside table. It was the first thing he did every morning when he woke up.

But the phone wasn’t there. The bedside table wasn’t there either.

Instead, his elbow came into contact with something soft, something beside him on the bed that restricted the movement of his arm. That’s when he became aware of the warmth against the right side of his body. Skin against skin, hot puffs of breath on his shoulder, hair tickling his cheek.

_You didn’t, Louis. You did not._

He shot up into a sitting position, and that’s when it hit him. This wasn’t his apartment. This wasn’t his bed. And he was not alone.

Heart beating in his throat he turned to look at the body lying next to him. The sun light was still bothering him, shining in his eyes and making everything burning hot and sweaty. But Harry, who was lying on his side with his back towards the window, didn’t seem to mind. He was still asleep, mouth agape and lashes fanning on his cheeks, curls wild around his head on the pillow. The pillow they had shared just seconds ago.

There wasn’t a certain moment when it all came back to Louis. He didn’t stop to rewind what happened last night. He just knew it had happened, the moment he realized where he was. Of course he remembered everything. He hadn’t been drunk enough to forget. If he had been, none of it would have happened. Harry wouldn’t have…

Well, Louis didn’t want to think about it. He just sat on the bed and stared at Harry’s sleeping form and ignored the consistent screaming he felt building louder and louder inside his chest. He felt like he could burst and he didn’t know what he should do to make the feeling go away, to regain control.

Maybe he should leave. But he didn’t want to.

As hard as he tried to, he couldn’t fully ignore the fact that last night he had gone through something that was completely new to him in all of his twenty nine years. And honestly, it had been better than any sex he had ever had with any girl. Brighter than all of the good things he had ever experienced. He still had his logics, still had his reasons and decisions and rationality, but… what if those weren’t enough? What if there was something else, something he had never paid any mind to, but should have taken into consideration all along?

And Harry… Well, he hadn’t ever really cared about anyone the same way, as consistently, as he cared about Harry. Even when he was making it out to be hate towards the causes that Harry was trying to push through, even when he had been just a stupid teenager, who didn’t know what to do with that sudden obsession with the boy who was prettier than all the girls.

He could lie to himself all he wanted to, but underneath it all he still remembered what he had wanted all along, no matter how irrational it had felt, and still did. Whatever drove him to kiss Harry in that locker room once everyone else had left, that irrational pull was still there, hidden behind everything Louis busied himself with on a daily basis in order to forget how incomplete his life felt, even when he did everything the way it _should_ be done.

The truth is, he was scared as fuck.

He got up from the bed and located his bunched up trousers at the corner of the room, close to the door. He had no idea where his boxers were, so he just took the trousers and sneaked his way into the bathroom. He didn’t feel like staying long enough to take a proper shower, so he just splashed some water over himself and pulled the trousers on. Going commando felt dirty, but he didn’t have the energy to look for his boxers. There was this strange tingling feeling all over his body. It made him feel sort of boneless. His bum was a little sore, too, but he tried to think of that as little as possible.

When he slipped back into the bedroom to look for his shirt, he noticed that Harry was in a sitting position on the bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes. So that ruins any chance of sneaking out without confrontation.

“Morning,” Harry murmured, voice still rough from sleep.

“Morning. Any idea where my shirt is?” Louis asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Harry blinked a couple of times and just stared at Louis with his sleepy eyes as if the question hadn’t quite registered yet. Louis noticed his socks on the floor close to where he had found his trousers from and busied himself with putting them on. He leaned on the wall instead of sitting on the bed. That would have felt like pushing some kind of invisible limits. He had pushed enough limits in the past twelve hours.

“Probably in the kitchen,” Harry said at last.

He got up from the bed and walked towards the door seemingly uncaring about the fact that he was completely naked. Louis, however, couldn’t stay uncaring. He tried his best not to let his eyes roam over Harry’s broad chest and tattoos and biceps and legs and crotch, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

Suddenly he remembered something that made him grab Harry’s arm just as he was about to open the door.

“What about your flatmate? Has he come back yet?”

Harry turned to him and Louis realized how close to each other they were standing. He let go of Harry’s arm as if the physical contact burned him.

“It’s only eight thirty. I doubt he’ll be back for a while. And if he is, he’s probably upstairs sleeping his hangover away,” Harry explained, leaving unsaid whether he cared about his flatmate finding out Louis was there or not.

Despite Harry’s conviction that they wouldn’t run into his flatmate, Louis let Harry leave the room first and make sure that his flatmate’s shoes were still absent from the entry hall.

“He’s not here,” Harry yelled on his way to the kitchen to let Louis know that he could safely exit the bedroom. “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Please don’t,” Louis sighed.

His shirt hit him in the face as he stepped into the kitchen. Apparently it looked funny, since he found Harry crouched over in silent laughter once he got himself untangled from the piece of clothing.

“I’ll make breakfast anyway,” Harry insisted once he was over his burst of laughter. “You can stay to eat or leave, your choice. You don’t have to wear the same shirt though, I’m sure I have some t-shirt you won’t drown in.”

“Don’t get all gentleman on me,” Louis retorted, though he wasn’t quite sure which made him angrier; being laughed at or just the general absurdity of the whole situation. “If I stay, you should at least wear pants.”

He didn’t know what made him say that. Firstly, he wasn’t really that keen on having Harry wear any clothes, and secondly, he really, _really_ shouldn’t abuse Harry’s hospitality for any longer than he already had.

“Go find me some, then. And find yourself a shirt, too,” Harry said absentmindedly as he twisted the buttons of the stove and poured oil on a frying pan. “Not that I mind you being shirtless, though.”

The last part was just a quiet mumble and Louis decided to pretend he hadn’t heard it, as he returned to Harry’s bedroom to look for something to cover up the semi Harry was shamelessly sporting in the kitchen. Just thinking about it Louis felt his heart pump an unnecessary amount of blood up to his head, making his face glow red.

After a few minutes of rummaging through Harry’s closet he found a grey t-shirt that looked like it would be a bit too tight on Harry, but just the right fit for himself. He pulled it over his head and grabbed the first pair of boxers he saw.

“Cover up, Curly,” Louis called out as he threw the boxers towards the back of Harry’s head.

“Why? You didn’t seem bothered by my dick last night,” Harry said as he pulled the pants on.

“I’m not bothered by your dick. I’m just bothered by you being a dick,” Louis answered as he slumped into one of the chairs by the table.

He wasn’t sure when this all got so hostile again.

Normally he would have jumped at the chance of vile banter, but right now he just wasn’t in the mood for that. He realized he had made himself fragile by letting last night happen. He still had his career to think of, all the people who voted for him and trusted him to keep the promises he had made and to be the person they got behind. Pun not intended.

“I’m not trying to be a dick,” Harry said.

He had turned back to the eggs and bacon he was frying on the pan. His back muscles moved with the motions of his arm and it was unfairly attractive.

“I probably am. Sometimes. But at least I admit it,” Louis hummed.

“Oh, don’t I know it.”

“Do you even like me at all or were you still just proving a point?” Louis blurted out before he could stop himself.

He hadn’t really thought he’d want to talk about last night. Like ever. But apparently his traitorous mouth didn’t agree.

His words had Harry finally turning around. Louis couldn’t read his expression, but that was nothing new. It was something between surprise and condescension, he was sure.

Harry took his time putting plates and cutlery on the table before he bothered to answer.

“Of course I like you.”

“That doesn’t sound too convincing. Besides, why the hell would you? Why the hell would you like me? I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

It was a painful confession, but not as much so as Louis had thought. It was the truth and now it was out in the open, but they had both known it already, so in theory, nothing had changed.

“I don’t think…” Harry said and paused to consider his words. “I don’t think we like people because they deserve it. If you only like people once they’ve done something spectacular to prove they’re worth your lo- ah, acceptance, you’re doing it wrong. Sometimes you just have… a feeling about someone. Like you just know.”

He paused to carefully pile the eggs and bacon onto the two plates in a shape that resembled a dick and balls.

“I also don’t think you’re something broken that I need to fix just because we disagree on one thing,” he said as he put the frying pan away and grabbed the kettle to pour them both a mug of tea. “I think you have a lot of good opinions, when it comes to politics and stuff. And in the light of what happened last night, and even before that, I think there’s a chance that you might change your opinion on some things, things that are quite important to me. I’m not asking you to do so but, you know, even if you keep the premises the same, or most of them at least, you might be able to tweak things up in a way that allows you to change something about the way you live without giving up everything you believe in.”

He placed the mug on the table and sat down opposite Louis.

“And I’m not saying that’s why I like you,” he continued. “I’m only explaining this because you seem to think this is what _keeps me from_ liking you.”

Louis rolled Harry’s words over in his head, as Harry began to eat.

“But you don’t just… If you don’t like someone, you don’t just…” Louis didn’t know how to continue the sentence.

What could he have said? You don’t jump into bed with them? You don’t let them stay the night and cook them breakfast afterwards? He didn’t feel like addressing any of that.

So instead he just took hold of his fork and knife and started eating.

“I never said I don’t like you. Why is it so hard to believe?” Harry mumbled mouth full of bacon and leaned his cheek into his hand, taking a glance at Louis from under his lashes.

“Because you still didn’t explain _why_ you would like me. I’m not buying any of that ‘we don’t like people because they deserve it’ shit. If someone treats you like shit and then tries his best to stand on your way, it’s simply illogical to like them.”

“You have a great arse,” Harry shrugged nonchalantly.

Louis' mouth fell open and he was sure his eyes were trying to bulge out of their sockets. He didn’t have a comeback, so instead he just stuffed his mouth with some fried eggs.

“Why is it so shocking to you? I would have thought you knew that already,” Harry said teasingly and smirked all while sipping his tea.

Louis just shook his head exasperatedly and hoped to God his traitorously blushing face wasn’t giving him away.

Suddenly there was a click of the front door. Louis’ head snapped up and his panicked gaze met Harry’s. Harry didn’t seem as bothered, though. He looked past Louis completely calm, waiting for his flatmate to appear in the kitchen doorway.

“Hide me,” Louis hissed.

“Relax, it’s just Niall,” Harry said and chewed on some more bacon.

Louis’ heart was trying to beat out of his chest. His mind was running a mile a minute as he scanned the room for possible escape routes, but unless he was going to jump out of a window, there were none. He could think of at least ten different worst case scenarios for what might happen when a third person witnessed Louis’ presence in Harry’s kitchen at nine o’clock on a Sunday morning, wearing Harry’s t-shirt and Harry being more than half naked, on top of everything.

Louis listened to the sound of feet thumping closer without turning his head. Then there was a jolly shout of “good morn-“ that got cut short as Niall apparently noticed Harry wasn’t alone in his kitchen.

“Well, well, what do we have here! I thought you said you were tired, Haz,” Niall berated in a teasing tone and a _very_ Irish accent. “So who’s this?”

 Louis had just enough time to exchange a look with Harry, before Niall stepped further into the room, enough to see Louis’ face and recognize him. The silence after that was like a thick blanket encompassing them, squeezing them, probably made of iron, too.

“Hello,” Louis dared to say as he finally glanced at Niall.

Niall was a blonde man with a lean frame, hair messy from being out all night long and face red, either from the hangover or the wind outside. He was probably around Harry’s age.

“What the fuck is this, Harry?” Niall asked once he finally had stared at Louis for long enough.

The smile had vanished from his face and the tone of his voice had changed completely. It was now cold as ice.

“Niall, this is Louis, as you probably guessed,” Harry said calmly. “And Louis, this is Niall, my flatmate.”

Then the silence was back. It was agonizing. Niall just stared at him like he could burn him to pieces with just his gaze if he tried hard enough.

“So… Is Niall gay, too?” Louis asked just to end the silence.

Harry dropped his face down to his palms and… sobbed? Okay, Louis didn’t think he had chosen his words that badly. Then Harry tilted his head back and it became clear that he wasn’t actually crying. He was _laughing_.

“No, I’m straight. But I do support human rights,” Niall said, sounding almost offended for having his sexuality misinterpreted. “So you can fuck out of here right now.”

“That’s a bit harsh, but… I was just leaving, so,” Louis said as he got up from the table.

Harry was still trying to put himself back together, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

“No, you don’t have to leave, Louis,” he hurried to say. ”Niall’s just being a prat cause he doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“I don’t think anyone knows what’s going on,” Louis sighed, throwing his hands up. “I had better just leave now. Before Niall commits murder, or something.”

“Okay. Okay, maybe it’s for the best,” Harry said, sobering up from his laughter. “I’ll just- I’ll- see you.”

Louis nodded and backed away from the kitchen followed by Niall’s truly murderous gaze. He took a last glance at Harry, and what he saw in Harry’s eyes looked almost… hopeful? Why would Harry even care if they ever met again? Surely he was just saying things to be polite. He had a habit of doing that, after all.

Louis decided it was better to shake those thoughts from his head. For now, at least. He quickly put his shoes on and made sure he still had his phone and wallet in his pockets. He wasn’t sure what kind of hate crimes Niall would be capable of if he didn’t flee fast enough, so it was better not to linger. He could only hope Niall wouldn’t be the kind of guy to go blabbering to the press the first chance he got. If not for Louis’ sake, at least for Harry’s.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this wasn't too disappointing after that long wait I put you through. I appreciate all encouraging feedback, kudos and bookmarking! Thanks for reading! I’m @goesbyvee in twitter if you want to come and say hi. :)


	5. Fifth Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My apologies for taking so long before updating once again. Also, the story is getting longer and longer. In the middle of writing this chapter inspiration slapped me right across the face, and it would’ve become such a massive monster that I ended up splitting it up in the middle. So that means I already have most of the next chapter written and should get it posted quite soon. On another note, I feel like this chapter is way too lovey-dovey and everything progresses too fast. Consider yourselves warned. I just skipped some boring stuff to get to this point cause I don’t want to unnecessarily drag this story out.
> 
> Disclaimer: While including characters based on the personas of real, existing persons, this story is a work of fiction and is absolutely not meant to imply anything about these persons, their lives, personalities, sexualities, relationships, opinions, or anyone connected to them.

 

 

Louis was running late. The last meeting of the day had lasted much longer than expected, and as he was supposed to be paying attention instead of fiddling with his phone, he hadn’t found a chance to notify Harry of the unfortunate turn of events. On top of everything he had opted for taking the tube today instead of driving himself to work, so getting back home would probably take even longer than usually.

In his haste to get home Louis didn’t stop to check his phone after the meeting finally ended. He just grabbed his stuff and hurried to the underground station. He checked his messages during the few seconds he had to wait for the tube. The latest one was from Harry, sent almost half an hour ago and asking if Louis would be coming soon. Louis tried to send an answer as he stepped onto the train, but obviously it didn’t go through as he was underground. Sighing, he slipped his phone into his pocket and grabbed the yellow metal bar to stay upright as the train sped away from the station.

He knew that most likely Harry would be long gone by the time he’d reach home, but he couldn’t shake the restless feeling of lingering hope for the man to be waiting on Louis’ front steps as if he had nothing better to do. It was a sunny day, so maybe Harry didn’t mind sitting outside. Or maybe Louis was just foolish for hoping so.

After the night Louis had spent at Harry’s apartment things had gone in a new direction. Louis still wasn’t sure if it was better or worse than before, but at least he apparently seemed happier, since Liam had mostly stopped acting like Louis might break from the slightest of pushes. He was probably thinking that Louis had finally gotten over Eleanor, while the truth was that he was just back at texting Harry all day long, just like he used to do before “The Blowjob Incident” (as he had taken to call it in his mind) that had ruined whatever connection he and Harry had managed to build.

The difference to the time before was that these days it wasn’t always Harry who started the conversations, and the tone of their messages had turned into something much dirtier. It wasn’t dirty all the time. Just sometimes. A bit too often maybe, and Louis swore to himself that he wasn’t encouraging Harry for it, but that might not be entirely true. If nothing else, at least he was quietly accepting it, and that was already alarming in itself.

The biggest change, though, was the fact that they met up almost every day. Even though they both had long days at work and spent most of that time texting each other, it didn’t keep Harry from turning up on Louis’ couch by the end of the day. And they always met at Louis’ place simply in order to avoid Niall and the horrible things he might end up committing if he ever found Louis in his flat again.

Harry and Niall were apparently quite close friends and according to what Harry had said, Niall was aware of the fact that Harry was still spending time with Louis. He wasn’t happy about it and made it very clear to Harry, but Louis had noticed that Harry preferred to not talk about that. Maybe he was feeling just as conflicted about the whole situation as Louis was.

They still bickered like they always used to, but Louis had started to find it delightful rather than annoying. It kept things fresh. There was none of that awkward, unnecessary politeness that often slowed things down at the beginning of a relationship and kept it from progressing into anything deeper. Not that this was a relationship. They weren’t exactly _friends_ , but Louis couldn’t call them lovers either. They were just a confusing mess of feelings folding together, and Louis tried not to think about it too deeply.

Louis made his way towards his apartment with hurried steps even though he felt a little silly about it, because it was very unlikely that Harry would have waited for him this long. When he finally reached his street he lowered his pace to not get out of breath. As he got closer to his house he could make out something – or someone – sitting on the front steps.

A wave of relief washed over him. He tried to not pay it any mind, but it was a bit too obvious to go completely ignored. He squinted his eyes to make sure that the figure on the steps really was Harry, but he was still too far away to see it that clearly.

Only when he was already too close to turn around and run away, he realized that there were actually two people sitting by his door. Their heads were turned towards each other as if they were in the middle of a deep conversation. It was now easy to make out that the one with his head turned away from Louis had Harry’s messy curls, and the one facing him had long brown hair and a tall skinny body shape.

Louis stopped in his tracks. He could feel his survival-instinct kicking in as he was considering his possibilities to either run or hide. There were no bushes around that he could jump into, and just as he was about to turn on his heels, Eleanor raised her gaze and locked eyes with him.

“Hi, Louis,” she said.

It made Harry turn his head and send a little smile to where Louis was still standing unmoving. Louis let his gaze travel between his two visitors, trying to desperately read their faces for any signs of what kind of information they might have been sharing about him during their little heart-to-heart. Maybe it was a support group of sorts for people who had gotten in bed with Minister Tomlinson. Or maybe Louis just had a bit too wild imagination.

He warily made his way towards Harry and Eleanor as the two got up and stepped away from his way so that he could open the door for them. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, still ready to run if the situation turned any uglier.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, directing the question simultaneously at the both of them.

Harry and Eleanor glanced at each other. Not suspicious at all. Louis felt his frown deepening, though he tried to keep his facial impression neutral.

“Well, unless you’ve forgotten, we agreed to meet here-,” Harry said and paused to glance at his wrist watch, “-almost fifty minutes ago. And Eleanor here told me that you’ve forgotten to return something of hers, so she’s here to get it back.”

“Oh, right. That sweater,” Louis said. “I’m sorry I never brought it like I promised to, I just got so caught up with work and-”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain, I know you’re busy,” Eleanor interrupted him, shaking her head to stop his apologies. “Can we just go inside now?”

“That’s probably for the best,” Louis sighed and finally climbed up the few stars leading to his door.

After all, if this was going to develop into the messy scene that he was fearing it would, he didn’t really need his nosy neighbours witnessing it and possibly babbling to the press. The fact that Harry Styles, his “enemy”, sat by his door for the better part of an hour probably already raised enough questions in any by-passers who happened to know who lived there.

Louis held the door open for Harry and Eleanor even though at the same time he felt like running into the apartment ahead of them and hiding everything that could possibly imply that Harry had spent time here before. His mind was running a mile a minute trying to remember if anything too discriminating had been left on show.

He couldn’t come up with anything. It’s not like they left used condoms lying around. If there happened to be a few of Harry’s t-shirts in Louis’ hamper, as well as his toothbrush in the upstairs bathroom, Eleanor would never find out about those.

“Oh, there it is,” Eleanor remarked as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, having noticed the pink sweater still lying on the drawer where Louis had left it to remind himself to deliver it to her later.

Harry had already kicked his shoes off and walked into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Louis wasn’t too fond of the way he acted like he owned the place. He could only hope that Harry hadn’t actually spilled any details about their complicated situation to Eleanor.

Louis was already stressed out as it was, having to wonder whether Harry could actually be trusted. No matter how powerful the pull was that Louis felt towards the man, the truth was that it had been a long time since when they actually knew each other, and even then they used to basically hate each other. He just couldn’t shut down the last sane part of his brain that kept reminding him that Harry still had no reason to like him or to be kind to him, and that he might just be leading him on to fuck him up the worst way once he had gained his trust. And pulling Eleanor into that mess too was the last thing he needed.

Eleanor picked the sweater up and straightened it out in her hands as if to check that it was really hers. Then she folded it into a neat square again.

Louis was pretty sure she was just playing time and stalling all the questions she wanted to ask. He fought against the will to cross his arms and square his jaw. He would have to come up with a more productive way of squirming out of those questions.

“So… How have you been?” Eleanor started and turned to take a cautious peek at his expression.

“I’m fine, thanks. You?” Louis answered, keeping his tone light.

“I’m good, all good,” Eleanor said and hugged the folded sweater close to her chest.

She was wearing jeans and a black top, sunglasses perched on the top of her head, and Louis was sure that she had stopped by her own place after work to change into something more casual than the business look she usually sported. Louis hadn’t often seen her like this, since they had mostly ever met up for a quick lunch or at fancy restaurants that had required them both to wear something a bit classier. He had always considered her a well put-together, efficient woman, whose life revolved around work, just like his own. Now she just seemed so normal and fragile that Louis found himself wondering how he could have been so cruel to tag her along in his twisted endeavour to make his life seem like something it truly wasn’t.

“You do realize how bizarre this seems, right?” Eleanor asked, cocking her head towards the kitchen doorway, through which Harry had disappeared.

Louis felt more intimidated by the way Eleanor’s eyes were curiously roaming over his face than the actual question. Not that he knew how to answer it.

“I know, but it’s just… I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s not like we’re friends or anything, but I don’t have anything against him on a personal level, you know?” he tried to explain.

“So you’re not friends, but you just agree to hang out after a long, stressful day of work, huh?” Eleanor quirked her brow. “You don’t need me to tell you that you’re not being very convincing right now.”

They ended up in a short-lived staring contest that Louis ended by asking her why she hadn’t let him know that she was coming to pick up her sweater. She rolled her eyes at him.

“I figured Liam would know your schedule better, so I just asked him when you’d be home. Turns out, he was wrong about it.”

“That’s what you get when you trust Liam more than me,” Louis retorted.

Truth be told, he was a little hurt that Liam had failed to notify him about Eleanor reaching out to him. Sure it might have just slipped his mind, but knowing Liam that was very unlikely. It was more probable that Liam was hoping that Louis and Eleanor would make some kind of a truce or even end up getting back together if he played the role of Amor, plotting “genius” schemes to make sure they’d be at the same place at the same time.

Well, here they were, but the getting back together part wasn’t going to happen.

Eleanor was just about to say something more, when Harry peeked his head from the kitchen and asked if she’d be staying for tea with them. She politely declined and told them that she still had other things to take care of today. As she made her way to the door she squeezed Louis’ arm lightly and sent him a smile that said she knew way too much.

When she was gone, Louis turned to Harry, who was standing by the kitchen doorway. Louis had become a lot better at reading Harry’s facial expressions, but the man still wasn’t an open book to him. Right now he had no idea what kind of feelings the quizzical look on Harry’s face was supposed to represent.

“What did you talk about with her?” Louis asked, crossing his arms.

He wasn’t usually the kind of person who would show so openly that he was upset. In any normal situation he would bury it deep inside and keep his face unreadable no matter what. But Harry just brought all his guards down. He knew it was irrational, but he felt like it was _safe_ to show Harry what he was really thinking. It was more of a bodily reaction to being alone with the man, than a conscious decision to let him in. Louis hated it, hated how it made him weak. But at the same time he loved- No, let’s just not talk about love. He _enjoyed_ the feeling of not having to put up a façade and pretend to be strong when he was actually close to crumbling. That was something he probably wouldn’t have admitted even to himself a few weeks back.

“About you, of course,” Harry teased.

He took the few steps it took to close the gap between them and scratched Louis from under his chin playfully before tightening his grip and leaning in to kiss him. He pressed their bodies together, and Louis wasn’t even thinking of doing so, but his crossed arms just loosened and found their way around to grip at Harry’s t-shirt covered back. Harry’s soft lips and the way they pressed against Louis’ so demandingly still hadn’t lost their novelty, and it was easy for Louis to get lost in their kisses.

“What took you so long? Did something come up at work last minute?” Harry asked as he drew back to look him in the eye.

“No, just a meeting that lasted longer than expected,” Louis explained, and because he still wasn’t feeling reassured that Harry hadn’t told Eleanor anything, he kept on pushing: “But seriously, what did you two talk about while waiting? You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“Of course I said something, we were having a conversation. That requires both parties to say something,” Harry circled around the subject, probably just to tease him further.

“Don’t be difficult now,” Louis warned.

He untangled his hands from the fabric of Harry’s shirt and moved his arms so that they stuck to his sides in order to get Harry to co-operate. That elicited an unsatisfied grumble from Harry, who still tried to keep their bodies close and ended up pushing Louis against the closed front door to lock him in place.

“No answers, no cuddles,” Louis ordered and shrugged Harry off as he tried to lean in to nose at Louis’ neck.

“Fine, I’ll tell you, _if_ you promise me we’ll fuck against this door after,” Harry gave in, his tone heated.

Louis felt his knees giving in at the mental image. But right now getting answers was more important.

“It’s a deal,” he agreed, and added as just a whisper: “You drive me crazy.”

Harry pressed their foreheads together and looked him in the eyes, even though their faces were so close that it was impossible to fully focus their gazes on each other.

“We just talked about haircare products, mostly,” Harry reassured him in a gentle tone. “We talked a little about you, too. She was obviously a bit surprised to find me here, but she had seen me on Jonathan Ross and you on Graham Norton, so she knew we used to live in the same town as kids. It was fairly easy to explain to her that we’re not actually in such bad terms as the press has made it look like from time to time, and as our opposing views might make people think. But don’t worry, that’s all she knows. Your secrets are safe with me.”

Harry sounded sincere, and Louis believed him. What reason would he have to blab to Eleanor about what was going on between them behind closed doors? It also sounded quite realistic that Harry would spend his spare time sharing haircare tips with random girls he met. Maybe that’s why his curls were always so soft and springy when Louis cradled his fingers through them.

“Was that all the questions?” Harry asked while he already started distractedly placing kisses on Louis’ neck.

“I think so,” Louis sighed, because he wasn’t much better off himself, and this conversation was clearly sliding towards its end in an accelerating speed.

Louis could feel Harry’s hard-on rubbing on his thigh, and the knowledge that he was able to turn Harry on by practically doing nothing was only adding to the arousal he had been trying to keep at bay ever since Harry pressed close to him.

“I guess we’ll just have tea later,” he mumbled, though the last words of the sentence got lost in Harry’s mouth as he kissed Louis with all the fervour he could muster up.

 

\---

 

After they had showered (separately of course, because showering together would feel just unsettlingly intimate, despite the fact that they had just had sex which was quite intimate, too) and Louis had managed to force Harry to wear some pants, they brewed a new kettle of tea and drank it by the kitchen table arguing about which movie to watch. Louis eventually gave up and agreed to Harry’s choice of Titanic, because he knew it would probably end with his dick in Harry’s mouth, no matter what they watched. Maybe it would be better to get off with a romantic drama playing on the background rather than miss the best parts of Iron Man just because Harry was so insatiable.

But before any movie-watching would take place, Louis felt like it was necessary to wash the surface of the front door. Just in case that any bodily fluids had accidentally made contact with it.

“You seriously don’t need to wash it, c’mon,” Harry complained from where he was still sitting by the table and sceptically following Louis with his gaze.

Louis was crouched down next to the cabinet under the sink where he knew his cleaning supplies were kept. The problem was that he never touched that stuff and therefore he had no idea which one of the detergents he should use. Eventually he just grabbed a rag from the pile and the bottle with the text “hard surface cleaner” on it. That one looked like it would do the least harm.

“I can’t very well ask the cleaning lady to wipe your cum stains from the front door. Imagine how that’d sound,” Louis said to Harry before making his way determinedly to the entrance hallway.

He poured some of the cleaning liquid onto the rag and then placed the bottle on the drawer to have his hands free for the task. But before he even let go of the handle of the big bottle, his eye caught something that made his heartbeat pick up. He could physically feel his face turning pale.

Right next to where he placed the bottle, on the top of the drawer was a neat pile of books. The books that Harry brought here weeks ago and apparently never took back, even though Louis had placed them close to the front door to indicate that Harry should take them with him one of these days, because Louis still wasn’t going to read any of them.

The thing is that the pile of books was right next to where Eleanor’s sweater had been when she picked it up. It would be practically impossible to pick anything up from the top of that drawer without noticing the cheery, rainbow-coloured letters in the cover of _God Loves Everyone – How to Be Gay and Christian_.

So now Eleanor thought that Louis read this crap. Harry really didn’t need to say anything to her. She must have figured it out all by herself. No wonder why she had been sending Louis those all too knowing looks through the whole of their short conversation.

“Why is it taking so long? Do you need help?” Harry called from the kitchen.

“No… Harry, come here.”

“What is it?” Harry asked as he rounded the corner.

“Were these here this whole time? When Eleanor was here?” Louis asked, still not moving his gaze away from the offendingly bright cover of the book on the top of the pile.

Harry followed his gaze and it only took him a second to realize what Louis was talking about.

“Yeah,” Harry said warily. “But she might not have even noticed them, so let’s not go into panic mode.”

Louis finally turned to glance at Harry just so that he could give the man an incredulous look. Harry was clearly just trying to keep Louis calm. Even he couldn’t be stupid enough to think that there was a possibility that Eleanor hadn’t seen the books.

Louis had already built the most drastic worst-case scenarios in his head. Eleanor might run straight to the press or tell Louis’ family, whom she didn’t even know almost at all, that Louis was gay. Which wasn’t even _true_ , by the way. Because the books were Harry’s, and Louis had nothing to do with them. It was all just a huge misunderstanding, but all the same it could lead to disastrous end results if it turned out that Eleanor was holding a grudge for being left, after all, and would decide to take revenge.

“Okay, come on. Calm down. I can see that your head is going wild,” Harry said and placed his hands on Louis’ cheeks, making him look at his eyes. “Listen, she probably saw the books, but she isn’t a malefic person, is she? She didn’t seem like that at all. I think that even though you guys broke up, she cares about you enough to not want to hurt you. She isn’t going to do anything.”

Louis gripped Harry’s wrists. He appreciated the reassuring gesture, but at the same time he tried his best to shake his head in Harry’s grasp.

“You can’t know that, you don’t know her.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But if you’re being completely realistic, do you think she’ll do anything?” Harry asked in a calm tone.

Being completely realistic, Louis didn’t think Eleanor would blabber to the press. And she didn’t know Louis’ family well enough to talk to any of them about this. She even seemed to be quite okay with whatever had happened between her and Louis. Louis doubted she would have been treating him so nicely, if she really wanted to see him suffer. But saying that he was _absolutely_ sure she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him wouldn’t be realism. It would be optimism. And Louis couldn’t afford that. He had to play safe, whenever he had the chance.

“What should I do? Should I talk to her? But then if I bring it up and she doesn’t really know anything I might just be exposing myself,” Louis pondered. “Maybe it’s better to just wait and see. Fuck.”

Harry slid his hands onto Louis shoulders and squeezed.

“Or maybe you should just talk to her and make it clear that you don’t want your private things to be spread around?” he suggested. “I’m sure she’d understand. And you’d get a peace of mind.”

“But it’s not fair,” Louis complained and rubbed his hands across his face to clear his head. “Those books aren’t even mine to begin with.”

The look on Harry’s face was something between wary and regretful. Louis realized that maybe Harry was thinking he blamed this whole mess on him, because he was the one who brought the books into Louis’ apartment in the first place. He wanted to reassure Harry that this wasn’t his fault, but… it kind of was, at least partially.

On the other hand, it was Louis who moved the books from the kitchen into the entrance hall, and if he hadn’t done that, Eleanor wouldn’t have seen them. Maybe it was fruitless to look for someone he could put the blame on.

“I just have to do something. I have to make _sure_ that she doesn’t talk about this to anyone,” Louis decided before Harry got the chance to say anything. “I’m going to text her.”

Harry’s hands fell from Louis’ shoulders as Louis stormed into the kitchen to find his phone. When he unlocked the screen, he noticed that there was an unread message from Liam: _Did Eleanor come by? I forgot to mention she asked me about your schedule earlier_.

Louis didn’t answer him, even though he knew that Liam would see that he had read the message. He just had more important matters at hand, and he didn’t even know what he would have said to Liam. He wouldn’t bother to explain the entire story, that was for sure. Instead, he searched his phone for Eleanor’s number and began writing her a message.

“What are you going to say to her?” asked Harry, who had trailed after Louis into the kitchen and now took a seat by the table.

Louis was too full of nervous energy to sit down. Instead he ended up pacing around the kitchen as he typed the text, then deleted it and typed again.

“I have to play it cool, so she doesn’t think this is a big deal,” Louis muttered. “Okay, what do you think of this: ‘By the way, if you happened to notice those books on the drawer today, I just thought it might be good to clear out the fact that they’re Harry’s, not mine. He forgot them here and that’s actually why he was visiting me today.’ Does that sound bad?”

Harry’s expression was… too neutral. It looked as if he was consciously trying to not show what he was really thinking, and he didn’t usually do that, at least not that Louis had noticed.

“It’s okay, I guess,” Harry said, but instead of looking Louis in the eye he lowered his gaze to the table top.

“No, honestly. Am I explaining too much? It doesn’t sound believable, does it?”

“Yeah… maybe you’re explaining a bit too much,” Harry complied, raising his gaze and pausing, as if to think whether he should continue to speak his mind or not.

He squinted his eyes a little, and spoke in a slightly quieter voice: “Do you have to say that that’s the reason why I was here today? Cause that’s a lie. You could just say that the books were mine and leave it at that. Why do you have to…”

“Have to what?” Louis asked when Harry’s speech trailed off.

“I mean, you don’t have to underline it so hard that we’re nothing.”

“Oh! Cause that makes it sound like we _are_ something, and that’d only make her more suspicious than she already is. That’s a good call!” Louis noted.

He deleted the last sentence of the message and re-read what he had written.

“That’s not exactly what I meant, but…” Harry mumbled, mostly to himself and sighed deep.

“What? This is good, right? It seems casual. I should add a smiley face. That’ll make it even better,” Louis said. “I’m going to send it.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, and Louis waited for his approval. He knew that contacting Eleanor wasn’t a fool proof way to ensure that he’d avoid a disaster, but he couldn’t just sit around and wait for it to happen either.

“I’m just not sure if you should send her anything at all,” Harry said at last. “If she saw the books and made her own conclusions, she isn’t going to change her mind just because of a simple text message. You do realize that, don’t you?”

“I know her better than you do,” Louis answered, shaking his head. “She would definitely be more surprised if I didn’t do anything to make sure that there’s no misunderstanding like this left between us, even if I were thinking it’s possible that she didn’t notice the books.”

“Okay, I give up. Do what you think is best,” Harry yielded.

He looked upset, though. Such a sore loser. But he was really wrong about it, whether he admitted it or not.

“I damn well will,” Louis muttered as he pressed ‘send’.

 

\---

 

Eleanor’s answer came through a couple hours later, right after Louis and Harry had finished watching the movie and were getting ready for bed. Surprisingly, Harry hadn’t tried to get up to any funny business during the movie, though it was probably because he was still mad about how Louis hadn’t listened to his advice when it came to texting Eleanor. By the time Titanic had sunk and the end credits were rolling Louis was sure that Harry would pull up some excuse to leave and go to spend the night in his own bed. Harry didn’t suggest anything like that, though, so Louis just decided to roll with it.

Louis’ phone beeped for a message just when Harry was pulling the covers of the bed onto the floor and climbing in. Louis surged for the phone as if his life depended on it.

“Is it Eleanor?” Harry asked.

Louis didn’t answer him before he had read the message through three times. Then he let out a relieved sigh, pressing a hand above his heart.

“Good news, I assume,” Harry mumbled from where he had pressed his head onto one of the pillows and hidden his naked body under the blanket.

“Yeah, she says she actually thought I was reading those books so that I could make stronger counterarguments on everything they say,” Louis said, letting out a disbelieving burst of laughter. “That’s definitely a better story than the one I told her. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Harry hummed something indefinite as an answer. Maybe he was just too sleepy already to focus on Louis’ delight over getting out of the trouble he had thought he was in.

“That’s great. Your secrets are safe. Come to bed now?”

There was something unpleasant creeping up Louis’ spine. Harry’s voice didn’t sound completely sincere, and it was making Louis feel nervous and unsure, as much as he hated to admit it.

He focused on setting his alarm and then placed his phone on the bedside table, connecting it to the charger. He usually slept in some ratty joggers and a t-shirt, but on a whim he decided to lose the shirt. He pulled it over his head and folded it back into the closet. Harry was facing the opposite wall, so he didn’t pay Louis’ doings any mind. Louis glanced at the back of Harry’s head, but it didn’t give any signs of what Louis should do to make the moment feel less heavy.

Louis climbed onto his side of the bed and slid under the blanket. Despite the shortness of the time they had been sleeping in the same bed, Louis had quickly grown a certain familiarity to it. Usually Harry pulled him into his arms as soon as he came to bed, and clung onto his body all through the night. Louis tended to pretend that he was reluctant to be held, maybe huff frustratedly for the show, but truth be told, he found it comforting.

But now Harry didn’t turn around, so Louis just lied down on his back and glanced in Harry’s direction once more, before reaching his hand out and flicking the bedside lamp out. He closed his eyes, determined to go to sleep without Harry’s arms around him, but the ever-growing feeling of dread was driving him restless.

He had been so careful to make sure that the sane part of his brain kept reminding him that Harry might not really care about him. But now all the other parts of his brain were starting to believe in that, too, and he didn’t like it one bit. He wanted to fall back into the blissful delusion that he was loved, escape into that feeling that he had started to expect from being in Harry’s close proximity. Of course it wasn’t real. But he just needed it.

“Harry?” he whispered, but there was no answer. “Harry, are you awake?”

There was a short moment in which Louis was starting to think that Harry wouldn’t turn around. He knew Harry couldn’t have fallen asleep that fast, so he thought the man was just pretending to be asleep to avoid the conversation. Every second that passed by made it harder for him to breathe. But then he felt how Harry turned to face him, sheets rustling. Louis tried to make his eyes adjust to the dark faster to see the look on Harry’s face, but everything was still pitch black.

“What are you thinking about?” Louis asked after swallowing a bit laboriously, because Harry didn’t say anything and Louis’ throat was getting clogged with the dread he still felt afflicting his breathing.

“The past,” Harry whispered back through the darkness in his raspy voice.

His answer wasn’t something Louis had been expecting. To be honest, he didn’t know what he was expecting. He just needed some kind of proof that Harry didn’t at least completely hate him.

Maybe he wasn’t going to get it, though. Maybe it was the opposite. The only thing that talking about the past brought to Louis mind was how badly he had treated Harry back then. Maybe this was the part where Harry finally realized that too, and made the logical conclusion that Louis didn’t deserve his time and patience. Louis didn’t deserve _him_.

He asked anyway: “What about it?”

“The locker room.”

Louis eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness and he could just about make out Harry’s eyes staring back at him. Harry slid his hand a little closer across the bed, just enough to gently graze the bare skin of Louis’ shoulder. He left his fingers there. Maybe it was supposed to be comforting. Harry hadn’t ever struck Louis as a person who would want to cause others pain. He would probably try his best to let them down easy. But right now his touch was just making Louis’ skin burn with panic, the need to do something to save this, whatever this was. Real or delusion, Louis couldn’t give up on this without a fight.

“I know I was always such a shit. I’m sorry. And I shouldn’t have kissed you in the locker room, it was stupid and selfish. I was such an idiot, and I apologize. For all of that,” Louis whispered frantically.

He hadn’t really thought to apologize, but as soon as it was out of his mouth he knew it was the right thing to say.

Harry didn’t seem to have expected it either, because he turned onto his stomach to lean his elbow onto the mattress and reach over Louis to flick the bedside lamp back on. In the light Louis could see Harry’s face clearly again, and the look on it was surprised.

Harry pushed his hand across Louis chest and pulled him close. He placed his head on the pillow, their faces so very close now, and Louis had no idea what was happening.

“You weren’t an idiot. I take the apology, but don’t say that stuff about yourself. Even if you acted a bit foolishly, you’ve grown after that. And don’t apologize for kissing me. I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Harry said, not quite in a whisper anymore.

“But why? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I… I’ve been wondering about this a lot. I can’t stop thinking about it,” Harry explained, his voice anguished and brows furrowed. “It’s just that I feel like - I mean, it’s obvious -  that you’re very reluctant to even admit to yourself that you like men, let alone to let someone else know about it. It seemed to be so important to you that Eleanor wouldn’t think that way about you. So I’m just thinking that maybe things could have gone differently for you, if instead of laughing at your face when you kissed me, I would have… done something else.”

“Like what? You were _fourteen_ , Harry. And I was older, I should have known better. I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t,” Harry shook his head. “You deserved what everyone deserves in that situation; someone who tells you that it’s _okay_ to feel like you want to kiss boys, that it’s _acceptable_. I’m not trying to say that everything you are now is because of me, but I just can’t stop thinking about how big an effect I could have had, and maybe did have. Just in a different way.”

Louis turned onto his side so that they were fully facing each other. He hadn’t even realized that Harry might be regretting some things he did in the past just as much as Louis did. Obviously his own mistakes were quite a bit bigger, but this seemed to be important to Harry.

“I don’t think you need to apologize,” Louis said contemplatively. “Yeah, sure it hurt me, but mostly just my pride and ego. And maybe that was for the best, I mean, I was a self-righteous little shit, and that’s the truth. Someone needed to make me rethink that. The way I think about gay marriage and being gay in general has basically nothing to do with what happened in the locker room. It may have made me more cautious when it comes to showing feelings and stuff, but I could have just as well kissed a girl and if the same thing happened, the consequences would be exactly the same. So you can have a peace of mind. I’m not the way I am because of you.”

As soon as Louis said it, he knew it wasn’t the complete truth. Harry may not have been the reason why his view of homosexuality was negative, but it’s not like he had ever had more than vague interest in any other male than Harry. Or in any other female, for that matter. But he didn’t really want to think about that, so instead he slid his hand onto Harry’s waist under the blanket and pulled him a little closer, letting the tiny smirk on his lips grow.

“Fine, but it might have affected you subconsciously. You wouldn’t know about that,” Harry insisted, but Louis could hear his breathing hitch after the last words.

“Hmm, I’m sure you’ve affected me in many ways. Most of all, you turn me on when I least expect it,” Louis tried to dirty talk.

At best, it was a pitiful attempt to get Harry to grab his ass. But it worked.

“I give in. You’re impossible,” Harry huffed and leaned in to kiss him.

“I want to suck you,” Louis said when their lips parted.

He had only given Harry a blowjob once before, if you could even call it that. He had quickly noticed that he liked doing it way too much, so much that it scared him enough to back off and turn it into a handjob in the middle of it. But now was as good a time as ever to try it again. Maybe if he’d manage to do it well enough, Harry would forget that he shouldn’t be messing around with Louis in the first place.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, but his pupils were blown, so the thought was clearly arousing to him.

“Yes, Sir.”

Louis reached a hand down to palm Harry, but Harry grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“No touching unless I say so,” Harry said, turning on his authoritative tone. “Get on your knees on the floor by the end of the bed. And get rid of those pants.”

Louis pushed the cover off and hurried to obey Harry’s orders. Harry moved to sit at the end of the bed with his feet planted on the ground, so that when Louis kneeled in front of him, his face came to be on the same level as Harry’s crotch. Harry spread his knees and beckoned Louis closer, bringing him to sit in the open V of Harry’s legs. Harry’s cock was half-hard already, and as Harry gave it a few strokes, Louis felt his mouth salivating. He waited patiently for Harry’s instructions.

After the first time they had had sex Harry had brought up the fact that Louis seemed to like it when Harry was in control. At first Louis had tried to avoid the topic, too embarrassed to admit that it was the absolute truth, but when Harry had pinned him down to the couch and demanded his attention, he had no choice but to admit that it turned him on more than anything.

They had spent that whole evening talking about their kinks, and Louis had discovered that he wasn’t necessarily quite familiar with all of his. It hadn’t felt awkward, because Louis had realized that Harry had already seen him in such compromising positions that nothing he could possibly confess would change the way Harry thought about him. Besides, Harry seemed to be just as into those things as Louis was. Louis liked being told what to do, and Harry liked telling him what to do. In that sense they were like puzzle pieces, in spite of all their rough edges that otherwise seemed to chafe against each other all wrong.

Louis tried to not think too much of the way he had found out that he preferred rough sex to something that could have been sweet and unhurried. Maybe the roughness was just a way to avoid thinking about what this mess he had created with Harry meant. He told himself he could walk away from this the second he decided to, despite the way that even just the thought of leaving had his heart beating in a panicked staccato.

“Touch yourself,” Harry said.

Louis’ hand flew onto his own cock and started stroking. He tried to not make it too hurried. He wanted this to last. He hadn’t been touched yet, though, so it took him a moment to get properly hard. But apparently that’s what Harry wanted, because he didn’t give any more orders. He just watched Louis and stroked himself in the same pace as Louis’ hand moved.

Being observed so closely made Louis feel squirmy, and he felt like his cock was probably already close to blurting out pre-cum.

“Stop,” Harry said then and took his hand off his own cock as well. “Hands behind your back.”

Louis did as he was told, clasping his fingers tightly.

“Don’t take it in your mouth yet, just get it wet,” Harry instructed, holding his dick at the base. “You remember last time, right? Do it just like you did then.”

Louis nodded attentively and squirmed a little closer so that he could get his mouth on Harry’s cock. He waited a moment, getting used to the musky smell and taking in the impressive size of Harry’s member, but Harry was impatient. He tapped Louis’ cheek with his cock.

“Did I tell you to do something?”

“Yes. Sorry, Sir,” Louis said, feeling his face heating up for getting so absorbed in the moment.

He leaned forward and kitten-licked the head, then proceeding to lick along the whole length from base to tip. He bit his own lips to make his saliva run quicker, lapping over the cock and tasting its saltiness in his mouth. He felt a little high on the feeling of… he didn’t know what, the words didn’t come that easy to him. He just wanted to be good for Harry, be worth his time and make him want to keep dedicating it to Louis.

“Good boy, now suck the tip,” Harry said then, his voice sounding a little strained.

Harry was clearly struggling to try and keep his composure. That only made Louis try harder. He wanted to make this so good for Harry that the man would be panting and involuntarily thrusting into his mouth. The thought was hot, and Louis felt the ache between his legs, but he kept his hands firmly behind his back, just like Harry had told him to.

Harry didn’t give him more instructions, so Louis decided to take matters in his own hands. He pushed his head a little further when Harry let go of his base and reached his hand to grab the light hairs at the nape of Louis’ neck. Louis was able to take a little more than half of Harry’s length into his mouth before the tip hit the back of his mouth and triggered his gag reflex. Harry grunted and tightened his hold on Louis’ hair, but let him draw back a little so he wouldn’t choke.

“Greedy,” Harry chided him, but his tone wasn’t really reprimanding.

Louis felt his eyes tearing up, but he didn’t draw back completely. He just took a moment to lick at the tip before trying again, determined to make this work. He was sure he had no proper technique to begin with, but mostly he was just trying to copy the things that Harry did to him when giving head. He had first-hand experience on how good that felt. He tried to keep the suction on, while he let Harry’s hand guide his head back and forth. He knew Harry would be careful to not push him too far, because Harry probably thought that was why Louis had backed out of it the first time.

When Louis raised his gaze up to Harry’s eyes, Harry was already staring back at him. He was biting his lip and the green of his irises was almost completely swallowed up by the black of his pupils. His cheeks were heated and the way he clenched his jaw looked like he was working to keep himself in control.

“Doing so good, Louis, you look so hot,” Harry praised. “Can you take a little more?”

He pulled Louis off his dick for long enough that he could voice his answer.

“I can try,” Louis said, the slight hoarseness of his voice sending a shiver down his back.

“Yeah? You can tap out, if it’s too much.”

Louis nodded and mouthed at the head of Harry’s dick, making Harry gasp a little. He let Harry guide his head down again and tried to concentrate on not choking or gagging. He kept eye contact with Harry the whole time. He wasn’t sure who it was supposed to reassure, but Harry was staring at him so captivatingly that he probably couldn’t have turned away anyway. At least not unless Harry ordered him to do so.

He felt his throat tickling, telling him to gag when the tip got all the way to the back of his mouth, but he fought against it, despite the tears spilling over. Harry didn’t keep him down for long, instead letting him back away enough to concentrate on pulling a breath through his nose, before pushing back down along the length, taking a little bit more than last time. Harry helped him into a pace where he never stayed down long enough to start choking and always had enough time to get himself back together in between.

Once he got used to it, he started moving his tongue, paying special attention to the tip whenever he pulled back and licking along the vein under the shaft. He got so into it that he hardly noticed when Harry started reeling towards his peek.

He felt it clearly, though, when Harry’s hips started snapping up in tiny movements. It startled him out of the rhythm he had found and made him choke on the meat pushing past his gag point. His hands flew out to grab Harry’s thighs.

“ _Fuck_ , I’m gonna-,” Harry cursed, but it was way too late for the warning.

As Louis pulled back, coughing, Harry spurted right onto his face. Most of the cum landed on Louis’ lips, a single streak painting his left cheek. He felt the hot liquid sliding down his face, as his mouth was gaping in surprise.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry,” Harry hurried to apologize, still panting.

Louis instinctively raised his hand to wipe his face. He stared at the white stuff on his fingers as if he hadn’t seen cum many times before.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked him cautiously.

Louis just nodded. He didn’t know what to say. There was cum on his face. But it wasn’t the end of the world. And he was indeed okay.

Without really stopping to think about it, he licked his lips. Then he frowned. It didn’t really taste that bad, but not good either. There was something similar as in the taste of the pussies he had licked, but it wasn’t exactly the same. Louis licked his forefinger to better define it.

“If you don’t stop that I’ll come again before long,” Harry deadpanned and fell back onto the bed with his hands covering his face.

Only then did Louis get out of the trance he had fallen into. As he moved his attention to Harry and the softened cock between the man’s legs, he realized that his own member was still aching for release.

He climbed onto the bed and straddled Harry’s waist between his thighs. Harry removed his hands from his face to look at Louis. He was smiling as he reached down for Louis’ cock. Louis returned his hands behind his back, grapping his right wrist tightly into the hold of his left hand.

“I’m sorry I let go, Sir.”

“It’s okay, Lou, I feel like I’m the one who let go.”

“That’s kind of true,” Louis mused. “So I’m going to come on you now.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Harry said and started stroking Louis' cock in a fast pace. “Aren’t you a good boy, going to come for me? Love the taste of cum, don’t you?”

Harry seemed to know just what to say to make Louis’ skin burn and the blood rush down to his member. Harry kept talking dirty and flicking his wrist until Louis came, shooting white all over Harry’s stomach and chest, toes curling and eyes seeing bright little stars. It didn’t take too long, because Louis had been turned on enough to burst ever since he first sucked Harry’s dick into his mouth.

“You’re great, Louis. You were really good,” Harry said once Louis was lying on his chest, spreading the mess of his own cum between their bodies and completely uncaring about it.

He closed his eyes as he concentrated on slowing his breathing down to normal. Harry stroked down his back gently and squeezed his bum. Louis flinched a little, still a bit sore from the fucking he had received earlier in the day, but he let Harry do as the man pleased, too tired to tell him off.

“Mind blowing, even?” Louis asked softly.

“Definitely mind blowing,” Harry agreed, then chuckling: “Or should I say ‘dick blowing’?”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Louis deflected in a blank voice.

“But it’s-“

“No.”

“Lou-“

“No.”

“Fine,” Harry gave in. “Party pooper.”

“Someone needs to show you your place,” Louis grinned, pulling back so he could lean his forearms on Harry’s chest and dip down to kiss him.

They were sticky and disgusting, but at least they were in it together. For this brief moment of bliss Louis shut his nagging brain out and embraced the thought that the smiling kisses they shared, teeth clanking, were all that existed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there were any mistakes in the text, I’m deeply sorry. I was just too tired to proofread it after I had already edited it a gazillion times. I appreciate all encouraging feedback, kudos and bookmarking! Thanks for reading! I’m @goesbyvee in twitter if you want to come and say hi. :)


	6. Sixth Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’ve read this chapter through so many times now that I’m not sure anymore if it’s actually utter crap or if I’m just being delusional. And I’m sorry for making Niall a bit of a dick in this story! But then again, Louis is also a bit of a dick in this story… Anyway, only one more chapter to go, yaay!
> 
> Warnings: Emotional distress.
> 
> Disclaimer: While including characters based on the personas of real, existing persons, this story is a work of fiction and is absolutely not meant to imply anything about these persons, their lives, personalities, sexualities, relationships, opinions, or anyone connected to them.

 

 

“My birthday was actually a month ago already. I just didn’t have the time to arrange a party then. Not that you can really call this a party, but at least I got most of my friends in one place at the same time,” Jesy explained, a smile lighting up her face.

She had invited a small group of friends to spend the Saturday evening at the small pub around the corner from where she lived to belatedly celebrate her thirtieth birthday. It wasn’t anything special, they had just claimed a few tables to themselves to sit around and share pints. The pub was quite packed and the atmosphere was loud and cheery, but still calm enough that you could have a conversation without having to shout.

“Yeah, life just tends to keep you so busy that it’s actually quite a feat to find a day when all your friends have a free night,” Louis agreed.

They were standing by the bar, waiting for the busy bartender to get them a refill.

“By the way, I still haven’t asked you how things progressed with Harry Styles. Did you ever talk to him again? Apologize maybe?” Jesy suddenly changed the topic.

Louis glanced around self-consciously as soon as Jesy said Harry’s name. It was unlikely that anyone would pay attention to their conversation, or even be close enough to hear what they were saying to each other in the noisy bar, but it still felt a bit risky to talk about Harry in a public place. Like calling for trouble.

No one was even looking their way, though. Louis decided to not chastise Jesy for speaking of Harry with the full name. It’s not like she really knew what was going on between them, and maybe Louis’ friendship with Jesy wasn’t quite on the level where he could tell her what to do anyway. Besides, if talking about Harry could really hurt Louis’ reputation, Jesy would be the last one to bring the topic up in public. Louis was just being paranoid again.

“I did, actually,” Louis told her truthfully and cleared his throat. “We talked about it.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” Louis shrugged. “It’s all good now. I hadn’t even thought about it from his point of view. I had just been feeling sorry for _myself_ , but now I realized that it had bothered him, too. So it’s good that we talked.”

Jesy nodded and gave him a long look full of questions, but she kept them to herself. She wasn’t the kind of person to pry, unless it had something to do with her job. And this sort of had something to do with her job, because it would be a huge mess for Louis’ PR if the media found out about him and Harry, but of course Jesy didn’t know anything about that.

So instead she just gave him a smile and pulled their beers closer as the bartender finally decided to serve them. She handed Louis his pint and clinked the glasses together saying: “Cheers to making peace with old enemies!”

“What old enemies?” Liam’s voice asked from behind them at the same time as he placed his arms around their shoulders, making Louis startle.

“Oh, you know, just those middle school mortal enemies we’ve all had,” Jesy shrugged as she turned around to face Liam.

Liam’s face visibly crunched up in distaste.

“I know what you’re talking about. There was this girl named Christy on my class. I swear she was the female incarnation of the devil. I never made peace with her, though. She wasn’t the kind of person you can negotiate with. She used to go around making corrections on everything I did wrong, so in retaliation I pulled her hair whenever I was sat behind her in class. And that circle was never-ending,” Liam said.

“Or maybe you just had a secret crush on her,” Jesy laughed.

“No chance,” Liam insisted, the most disbelieving look on his face.

Louis let them bicker. Instead of participating in the discussion he concentrated on taking a big gulp of beer. When it came to him and Harry, the secret crush theory hit a bit too close to home.

“But you know who’s got a crush?” Liam exclaimed, swatting Louis’ back so hard that he almost spilled the beer out of his mouth. “Louis here has been glued to his phone for the better part of a month, and I’m sure he’s got his eyes on someone new since he never got back together with El despite my attempts to set them up. He’s just been so damn secretive about it.”

Louis was sure that Liam was only bringing the topic up fuelled by the few pints he had downed during the night. Liam had been tentatively pestering Louis about his constant texting ever since he had first noticed it, but clearly he didn’t dare to straight up ask Louis about it after the time when Louis had told him that it was none of Liam’s business who he texted.

“Oh really? Why is this the first I’ve heard about this?” Jesy frowned.

“Because Liam is just making it up,” Louis hurried to answer, then turning to say to Liam: “And by the way, please stop trying to set me up with my exes. It won’t work.”

“It was worth a shot,” Liam claimed. “And I’m not making anything up. You’re always texting someone, and you didn’t do that before, not even when you were still with El. I just haven’t found out yet who the new girl is.”

“C’mon, Louis! Tell us about the lucky girl,” Jesy seconded Liam.

“There’s no girl,” Louis told them.

Technically it was the truth, though maybe not in the sense they would take it. Louis took another big sip of beer. He wasn’t drunk enough to survive this conversation.

“We’re your friends, Louis. Don’t leave us hanging like this,” Liam pleaded. “You could at least admit that there is someone.”

“Okay, there is someone. Are you happy now?” Louis snapped, but changed into a softer tone to avoid pushing Liam into his kicked puppy mode. “It’s just so new that I don’t want to talk about it. It might not even develop into anything.”

“But you could-,” Liam started, but Jesy cut in with: “You know what, you don’t have to tell us about her more than what you feel comfortable with. Take your time. We’re just happy that you’re happy. Aren’t we, Liam?”

“Of course,” Liam agreed a bit reluctantly. “But I want to be kept updated, if it actually turns out to be something serious. It took you three months to tell me that you were going out with El, so I guess I’ll just ask you again in a couple of months.”

Louis shrugged with a smile on his face in lack of things to say. Maybe if he really had some girl he might have reacted differently, would have promised Liam that he’d be the first to hear about it if their relationship got official. But as it was, Louis knew that whatever he and Harry had wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. And once it would be over, Louis would move on with his life and tell Liam that nothing ever came of the thing he had with this “girl”. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to explain himself much.

Liam and Jesy were moving onto another topic, but Louis couldn’t pay them any attention, because right then he heard a familiar Irish accent yelling something cheerful and making a group of men at the other end of the bar counter roar in laughter. Louis didn’t mean to look that way, but his head turned automatically to check if the Irish lad was the one the voice made him think of. And it must have really been just bad luck that the blonde guy happened to be gazing across the bar at the exact same time, and their gazes locked for a moment.

The spark of recognition in Niall’s eyes was clear. The way the corners of his mouth fell into a tight line and the mirth in his eyes died into a cold stare only confirmed the fact that Louis had no chance of hiding from him.

Louis turned back to his friends and hoped that Niall wouldn’t try to come to talk to him. He hadn’t seen Niall again after the time when they first met in Harry’s kitchen, and he had no idea what kind of conversations Niall and Harry might have been having about him. The one thing that was clear, was that Niall really, _really_ didn’t like him.

Though Louis didn’t look at Niall again, he could see from the corner of his eye that the blonde was slowly making his way through the pub towards him, stopping every now and then to talk to people as if he knew almost everyone here. Maybe this was his usual hangout or something. After all, the pub was located quite close to where Niall and Harry lived.

Louis cursed himself for not thinking of that sooner, even though he probably would have come here anyway. What are the chances that Jesy decides to celebrate her birthday at the same place where Niall’s group of friends spend their night, seriously?

Louis tried to engage in the conversation with Liam and Jesy, but the closer Niall got to him, the more restless Louis felt. And it didn’t take long before he heard Niall’s voice saying: “Fancy seeing you here, Minister.”

As much as Louis wanted to just ignore Niall until he would give up and leave, he didn’t want to raise suspicion in his friends, so he turned to look at the Irishman. Niall was wearing a smile on his face, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hello,” Louis said, wary of where the conversation would take them.

He was majorly annoyed by the knowledge that Niall had something to hang over his head, but he had nothing on Niall, so he would just have to play nice and try to tame Niall’s hatred for him down enough so that the lad wouldn’t end up causing a scene.

“Hi,” Niall said, then turning to Liam and Jesy: “Mind if I borrow Louis here for a second? I’ve got something I’d like to discuss with him.”

Liam and Jesy didn’t seem too surprised. They probably thought Niall was just another concerned citizen who wanted to take the chance to talk to a Minister. They glanced in Louis’ direction, ready to tell Niall to leave Louis alone if he wouldn’t be feeling like talking to a stranger right now.

“It’s okay. We can go over there,” Louis stepped in to say and nodded towards a booth at the back of the pub.

A group of people were just getting up from the table, leaving it unoccupied. It was located a bit further away from the busiest parts of the pub, so it would be private enough for Niall to say whatever it was that he wanted to talk about.

“Okay. We’ll just be over there,” Jesy said, waving her hand in the direction of the tables where the rest of her friends were sitting.

Louis nodded and followed Niall to the booth, as Jesy and Liam started making their way back to their friends.

Louis felt tense. He had no interest in talking with Niall, because he knew that Niall would probably have nothing nice to say to him. And he still wasn’t convinced that Niall wouldn’t decide to ruin his career and life by talking to the press about him. Louis wasn’t sure if Niall could possibly find a way to get the story out without hurting Harry’s reputation at the same time, though. Besides, he didn’t really know Niall well enough to know if the guy would risk his friendship for this.

“So what do you want to talk about?” Louis asked Niall as soon as they sat down, not wanting to drag out the part where they were pretending to get on well for the sake of other people’s prying eyes.

They placed their pints on the table. Louis raised his gaze to Niall’s eyes, still just as cold and contemptuous as when he had first noticed Louis.

“I think you know,” Niall said. “Just lay off Harry and we’re all good.”

Louis raised his brows. He hadn’t really expected Niall to get straight to the point, even though in a way it was a relief. Maybe that way the conversation would be over sooner.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Louis tried, even though it was probably more than obvious to Niall that he and Harry were still seeing each other.

“Don’t play dumb. I know you like dick,” Niall said, leaning forward.

Thankfully he wasn’t being very loud, despite the distinct spitefulness in his voice.

“You can’t seriously be dumb enough to think that anyone who supports equal rights could like you. Least of all Harry,” Niall continued without giving Louis a chance to stand up for himself. “It’s so obvious that he just thinks he can change your mind and affect the vote, but I know it’s not going to happen. I can see you’re scared as fuck to be exposed. So there’s no need for Harry to waste his time on you.”

“You’ve got it all wrong. We’re most certainly not sleeping together, and while we have discussed the matter of same-sex marriage, Harry isn’t under the impression that I would change my mind about it,” Louis answered calmly.

Niall let out a snide chuckle.

“Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that,” he said. “I know it might be hard to believe. He probably doesn’t even do it on purpose, but you know how he’s got that cute face of his, dimples and all. It’s so easy for him to manipulate people without even trying. He’ll be out of your life the second you vote against equal marriage. You’ll see.”

Louis didn’t want to believe a word of what Niall was saying. He wanted to keep on hanging onto the hope that maybe, just _maybe_ , Harry did care about him at least a little. Harry wasn’t mean. He was kind and lovely and understanding. He wasn’t manipulative.

But the part of Louis that believed in that was quickly crushed by the weight of the fear that had been looming somewhere in the back of his mind all along and was now suddenly overflowing. It’s not like Louis hadn’t known it would happen. He and Harry were doomed to end. Even if Harry really cared about him, he surely wouldn’t want to stay with him after he’d vote against something that was so important to Harry. Just imagining the disappointment he would see in Harry’s eyes after the vote felt like a physical stab in his heart.

But most of all, Louis was scared that what Niall was saying was true. That Harry didn’t care about him even a little and had been just playing along to Louis’ fantasy to win him over and manipulate him. That sounded so devious that Louis wasn’t sure if Harry could even do something like that. Harry hadn’t mentioned the vote for such a long time, and they hardly ever talked about gay marriage anymore. It didn’t seem likely to Louis that Harry would put so much time and effort into creating this thing they had, if he then wouldn’t even try to talk Louis into changing his vote.

“You should know we’ve laughed at you and your stupid speeches countless of times,” Niall added, as Louis just stared back at him without saying anything. “Harry basically hates your guts.”

“Why do you think I’d care? Do you think I’m head over heels for him or something?” Louis snapped back. “He’s a grown man and can do whatever he wants. Maybe it’s you who should lay off him and let him make his own choices.”

“No need to get all defensive,” Niall huffed. “I’m just telling you like it is. You can either quit this now or see how it ends after you fuck up the vote. It’s not like your side has any chance of winning, anyway.”

Louis rolled his eyes as Niall got up from the table, grabbed his pint and left without even saying goodbye.

As much as Louis hated to admit it, there was some truth to Niall’s last statement. The way things were looking, same-sex marriage would soon be legal in England and Wales. But Louis wasn’t one of those turncoats who hop onto the winners’ side when things start to look bad. He couldn’t possibly let his electors down like that. Or betray his own beliefs.

He knew that Niall was just trying to rile him up. Even if Harry didn’t care about him, Louis was sure that he didn’t hate his guts either. The way Harry looked at him… that wasn’t hate. It just wasn’t. The part where Niall claimed they had spent time laughing at him, though… Well, that might have happened. Sharing stories about how Louis had fallen for Harry’s trap and all that.

No, Louis decided to stop thinking about it. He drew in a deep breath and braced himself to go back to his friends and pretend like his mind wasn’t running itself into a wild mess.

 

\---

 

On the Sunday morning Louis woke up to someone ringing his doorbell relentlessly. He groggily blinked his eyes open and tried to reach for his phone on the bedside table, but ended up knocking the lamp onto the floor, before he managed to get a hold of the phone. The way his head was pounding, he first thought the ringing was only existent between his ears. When he realized it was actually the sound of the doorbell, he tried to get up from the bed, but accidentally rolled himself onto the floor bum first.

“Fucking stop,” he groaned to himself, rubbing his temples, as the doorbell was still ringing time after time.

He got up and grabbed a grey hoodie on the way to the door. Miraculously he was wearing the same joggers he always wore to bed, even though he had no memory of putting them on, or of coming back home last night, for that matter.

When the pub had closed at 1 A.M. a smaller group of Jesy’s friends had decided that they should go to Jesy’s place for an after party. Louis had suggested they could head to a club, but Jesy had rejected that idea pretty fast.

“I’m not taking that mess into my hands, Louis,” she had said and dragged Louis to her place instead.

Louis wasn’t usually the biggest fan of the club scene, because people would recognize him, and when they were drunk, they dared to speak their mind more freely. Last night, though, he had been so upset about his conversation with Niall that he felt like it’d be a good idea to get spectacularly wasted. Fortunately Jesy had found a bottle of vodka and some strong liqueur from her cupboards, and insisted on everyone taking shots.

Louis didn’t feel quite that fortunate this morning.

The ringing of his doorbell stopped just when he made his way down the stairs into the entrance hallway. He went to the door anyway. He wondered briefly who might be trying to visit him at this god-forsaken hour, but a glance at the watch hanging on the wall made it clear that it was actually two o’clock already.

Louis wasn’t really surprised to find Harry behind his door. Who else could it have been, really? When Louis opened the door, Harry was already walking down the doorsteps, probably thinking he wasn’t home.

“Why didn’t you open the door? Or answer your phone? I thought you were dead in some ditch,” Harry said accusatorily when he turned around and climbed the stairs back up, wind swiping his curls onto his face.

“You can’t just come here unannounced,” Louis muttered as Harry pushed in past him.

“I tried calling you. And sent multiple messages,” Harry frowned. “Came to check on you cause you didn’t answer.”

“I was sleeping,” Louis said, a bit apologetically, because he felt embarrassed that Harry had to see him like this.

He knew he was a hungover mess. His hair was probably sticking in every possible direction, he hadn’t showered, and judging by the foul taste in his mouth, his breath probably smelled like old booze. He tugged the hoodie over his head to cover his body self-consciously, as if it would help him look more composed.

“Well, I guess I was worrying for nothing. You must be just hungover,” Harry said. “Did you have a good time with Jesy?”

“Yeah, it was okay,” Louis said. “I think I need a shower, though. You can stay, if you want.”

“I was planning to,” Harry grinned and kicked his shoes off.

A swarm of butterflies was released in Louis’ stomach at the realization that Harry had come all the way here just because he was worried about Louis. Surely that must mean that the man cared about him, and Niall had no idea what he had been talking about.

The butterflies were overpowered by the aching of his head and the slightly nauseous feeling at the bottom of his stomach, though. Painkillers and water first, then shower and a good, thorough brush of teeth, he decided.

 

\---

 

When Louis emerged from the bathroom, he followed the smell of bacon and grease to the kitchen. His stomach grumbled loudly, and he realized how hungry he was. He could have burst to tears of happiness, when he stepped into the kitchen and saw that Harry had cooked a massive pile of bacon and eggs while he was soaking the grime of last night out of his skin in the shower.

Harry was standing by the stove with his back to the door and frying the last round of eggs. Louis creeped behind him and slipped his hands from under Harry’s arms to cuddle close to his back. Harry didn’t startle, so he must have heard Louis coming down the steps. The second to the last always creaked, but Louis was too used to the sound to skip it. Besides, as he lived alone, there was usually no one around who could have been bothered by it.

“You didn’t have to cook breakfast in the afternoon just cause I’m hungover,” Louis said, but the way he pressed his cheek to Harry’s warm back and sighed deep probably gave away his thankfulness.

“I’m mainly just cooking this because all you had in the fridge was bacon and eggs,” Harry said amusedly, and Louis felt the rumble of his voice where his cheek was touching Harry’s back. “But I do have some experience on waking up after a good party and craving for something greasy.”

“I could eat my weight in bacon,” Louis admitted.

“That’s pretty much what I was going for,” Harry chuckled as he moved the eggs onto the plates. “It’s good that we’ve got this telepathy thing going on.”

Louis’ head was still pounding, but he felt happy. Maybe Harry wasn’t so far off when he reckoned they had telepathy. At least the food lifted Louis’ spirits rapidly. He dug in as soon as Harry placed the plates on the table. The taste was heavenly. It had Louis moaning with his eyes rolling backwards. Harry hid his face behind his hands as he laughed. It was all strangely domestic and easy. Louis found himself wondering if life could be like that every day. Apart from the headache.

But then he remembered his conversation with Niall, and how he had realized that this thing with Harry was doomed to end, sooner or later. He wondered if Niall had mentioned their encounter at the pub to Harry, but since Harry hadn’t brought it up, Louis decided to not ask about it either.

“Is something wrong?” Harry asked idly, having probably noticed the way Louis’ face went serious when he started thinking about Niall’s words.

“No, just that my head still hurts. It’ll take some time for the painkillers to kick in,” Louis lied easily like it was his second nature.

Which it kind of was.

“Poor baby,” Harry said, pouting his lips.

He came to sit next to Louis just so he could reach a hand out and pet his hair. Louis let his head be cradled as he kept shovelling food into his mouth. He felt a bit bad about getting all this gentle attention, while he was keeping things from Harry, but for the moment being he decided to ignore the guilt weighing down on his shoulders. Maybe they could talk about Niall later, when his head wouldn’t be killing him quite this badly. Or maybe they’d just never talk about it.

After the late breakfast they settled onto the living room couch to watch Disney movies mindlessly. Louis cuddled into Harry’s lap and napped every now and then, missing most of the films’ plots completely, and revelling in the way Harry’s hand kept petting his back.

He didn’t bring up Niall. Maybe it was partly self-preservation, partly just Louis avoiding talking about difficult things like he always did, but most of all he just didn’t want to ruin whatever fleeting moments he could have basking in Harry’s warmth, before all of this would be gone. Because while Louis wanted to fight against everything Niall had said, he knew the lad was right. _You can either quit this now or see how it ends after you fuck up the vote_.

Well, Louis didn’t want to quit this, so he’d just have to wait and see how the voting would go.

But maybe Harry wasn’t quite on the same wavelength, or maybe their telepathy was off, because when the end credits of _Beauty and The Beast_ were rolling, Harry said in a tentative tone: “So… The vote is in a week.”

Louis felt as if his body was being pressed down under the weight of a cold, wet blanket. Niall had been so sure that Harry was just hanging around Louis to affect the vote, but Louis hadn’t wanted to believe it. He still didn’t. There was still hope, he told himself, while at the same time he felt the hope seeping out from him, leaving him spent, lying against Harry’s chest.

“Yes?” he asked anyway.

He didn’t want to know the truth, he didn’t want to have this conversation at all. But eventually he would have to. Why not now?

“I’ve just been wondering if you’re still going to vote against the new law.”

They were both quiet after that. Louis was pretty sure that Harry was holding his breath.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Louis asked exasperatedly.

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, a few things have happened. I don’t get why you’d vote against what you want,” Harry answered, sounding a bit frustrated.

Louis moved into a sitting position, so he could turn to look at Harry. And maybe to put a little bit of space between them, as if losing the feeling of Harry’s body against his would make this any easier.

“And what is it that you think I want? Do you think I want to marry you, huh?” Louis snapped, concentrating on making his voice cold and hard to avoid the wave of emotions that he felt threatening to spill over the brim. “I don’t want that, and I never will.”

Louis knew he was being a prick, but maybe it would be easier to tell himself that it was him ending things between them instead of facing the fact that Niall was probably right all along and Harry never cared for him more than what was necessary for him to get inside Louis’ life and head and heart. Harry only wanted to affect the vote. Otherwise he wouldn’t be talking about it.

And Louis had been _damn stupid_ to not see it before now, to let himself get tangled into the delusional outputs of his imagination, where things could go differently, where this could actually end well. Or not end at all.

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry tried to explain. “I just mean there are others like you, and some of them _do_ want to get married with the ones they love. You can’t just ignore-“

“I think you should leave,” Louis said in a cold voice and turned his gaze away.

There was a brief flashback in his mind to the time when he last told Harry to get out of his apartment, and how bad of a choice it had felt like right after he had done it, but he pushed those thoughts away. He couldn’t afford to let his feelings take over. Not while he knew that Harry returned none of those feelings. Harry was just pretending.

Harry reached a hand out to touch Louis’ arm, but Louis flinched away. He got up and walked to the kitchen doorway. He still didn’t look at Harry. He didn’t need to see the look on his face, the disappointment, the hurt, the hate, whatever. Maybe Harry was just mad that his plan didn’t work out, or maybe he’d actually be sad that he failed to make Louis see why he was right. Or at least _thought_ he was right.

Louis didn’t need to know if looking at Harry would make him think twice. He just needed to get over with this.

“You don’t mean that,” Harry said.

His voice sounded hollow, a bit angry, but not sad or hurt.

“Yes, I mean it. Get out,” Louis answered, clenching his jaw.

From the corner of his eye he saw Harry get up from the couch and take a few steps closer. Louis braced himself, getting ready to push Harry away if he’d try to touch him again.

“So you’re just… leaving me?” Harry asked, spreading his arms. “Because I mentioned the vote _once_?”

“If that’s what you want to believe. I don’t care. Just go now.”

There was a long quiet moment that felt like everything in the room was wired tight, ready to snap. Then Harry said: “Okay.”

There might have been a slight quiver in his voice, but Louis forced himself to look away. He turned his back on Harry, as the man made his way to the door. He didn’t want Harry to see how close he was to crying. He felt his cheeks getting red, his head dizzy and vision cloudy, but he didn’t shed a single tear. Not until he heard the front door slam shut, the sound echoing in his head.

Then he let himself fall to the floor and lean his back on the doorframe. He raised a hand to wipe his cheek, erase the tear tracks.

_I don’t love him, I don’t love him. Not even a little bit._

He knew it was a lie, but it was a lie he needed to believe in. Otherwise he’d never get his life back in line.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was maybe a bit shorter than usual, but the last chapter will probably be long as fuck… So a bit longer wait is to be expected. I appreciate all encouraging feedback, kudos and bookmarking! Thanks for reading! I’m @goesbyvee in twitter if you want to come and say hi. :)


	7. Seventh Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To anyone who knows about politics: I know I’m simplifying and changing the British politics a bit in this fic. Just roll with it. I tried to write about that aspect as little as possible. On another note, despite not getting any complaints about them, I’ve now edited all the previous chapters for mistakes (because I’m a bit of a perfectionist…), but if you find any that I missed, please tell me. This chapter is a bit long by my standards, but I was determined to only have one more chapter. Oh well, enjoy reading! 
> 
> Disclaimer: While including characters based on the personas of real, existing persons, this story is a work of fiction and is absolutely not meant to imply anything about these persons, their lives, personalities, sexualities, relationships, opinions, or anyone connected to them.

_Hate all the things that they should love,_

_cause the thing they choose to hate is just a love that they’re afraid of_

_But see, I’m not afraid to take a leap, not afraid to get too deep_

_Singing long live the angels_

_  
_

_And hey, take note of colours in your dreams, things aren’t as dark as they may seem_

_Remember fear is in no way truthful_

_And I say what luck to find you in this life_

_I’ve been around so many times and never found someone so beautiful_

_  
_

_(Babe ‒ Emeli Sandé)_

 

 

By the Tuesday afternoon Louis had started to understand the metaphor of walls closing in. His fingertips were tapping nervously on the surface of his desk, and the walls of his office really seemed to be much closer to each other than ever before. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room, like somehow he had managed to gulp in more of it than what was usual, and now he was running low on it.

He stared at the computer screen without really seeing anything on it. He couldn’t concentrate.

It had been two days since Harry walked out of his door, and by now he should have had enough time to clear his head and arrange his thoughts, separate what’s real from what was just delusion. And he had done that, too.

He was still convinced that everything that happened between him and Harry was actually just a conspiracy schemed against him, aimed to make him change his mind and vote for the new marriage law instead of voting against it. It made sense. Maybe everything Harry had done to win him over hadn’t been exactly a conscious effort, because just like Niall had said, Harry was very charming by nature. He just couldn’t help it. But that didn’t change the fact that Harry had just grabbed the opportunity where he saw one, without caring about Louis’ feelings.

And sure that fucking _hurt_. But it wasn’t what made Louis so distressed. He was in a strange sort of peace with the fact that he had been played over. Maybe it was because somewhere in the sane parts of his mind he had known it all along. What he hadn’t known, though, was that the feelings he would develop for Harry would be… so real. That even after it was all over, and even when he _knew_ that what they had had was built on dishonesty, he still couldn’t erase the love.

He loved Harry. He loved _a man_. And he couldn’t stop it.

And that’s what really made him space out while he should have been working. That’s what made him lie awake at night, staring at the dark ceiling, unable to close his eyes and fall asleep. That’s what made him question everything.

Harry wasn’t even here. He wasn’t with him anymore, if he ever really was. But Louis still felt the love burning in his chest.

That’s what made him think back to how he had rationalized that practicing homosexuality is wrong, that it maybe shouldn’t even exist.

_A man who likes men is gay._

But if you could define things like that, you could define a man who can’t do what he wants to do.

Louis remembered how Harry had talked about changing the premises without discarding everything he believes in. So basically Louis would have to find a way to define the world in a way that makes it possible for him to love who he loves without it being wrong, without it being just artificial. He needed more than a definition that comes from the beliefs of the people around him. He needed a definition that _he_ would believe in.

Louis pushed his fingers through his hair, messing up the quiff he had styled it into. He sighed deep.

_A man who can’t do what he wants to do is a slave._

Louis leaned his elbows on the table and covered his mouth with his hands.

“Would you rather be gay or be a slave?” Louis whispered out loud to himself, and despite the sounds of chatter that came from outside his door, the whisper echoed loudly in his head, as if it was the only sound in the world.

That choice was surprisingly easy. Living as a slave, while he knew he could break out of that, would be just one big lie. And he had lived in that lie for long enough, going as far as even lying to himself, not only to others.

But the difficult thing was that now, knowing what he knew, there was no way he would vote against the law for same-sex marriage. There was no way that he would restrict the freedom of someone who was just like him, enslave them. It had nothing to do with what Harry wanted him to do. It was simply what Louis knew to be true.

But if he were to vote yes for the law, he would have to betray his electors. He would lose his face in the political circles for the rest of his life.

So he couldn’t vote yes, but he couldn’t vote no either.

And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that this conflict between who he was and who his electors had voted for wouldn’t end after the vote. He could skip the vote, but that wouldn’t make anything that came after any easier. He would still be just a fraud. He would have to parade around in the public eye, and he would never again be who the people thought he was.

So maybe the decision was sudden, but he was sure of it.

He reached for his phone and dialled Jesy’s number. Jesy answered on the second ring.

“I need you to come to my office,” Louis said. “This is urgent.”

 

\---

 

The Mirror, 19.7.2013

**_  
_ **

**_MINISTER TOMLINSON LEAVES THE PARLIAMENT – SHOCK DECISION BEFORE THE BIG VOTE  
_ **

_The reason behind Tomlinson’s departure seems to be stress-related._

_Written by Katie Page_

_  
_

_The supporters of the new marriage law must be bursting with joy, because long-time objector, Minister **Louis Tomlinson** , has decided to step out of the game right before the most crucial moments._

_As the final vote concerning the new law is only a weekend away, Tomlinson releases the news that he is leaving the parliament. The press release was sent out by Tomlinson’s representative **Jessica Nelson** on Thursday morning. According to Nelson, Tomlinson is not only giving up his position as a Minister, but also his post as a member of parliament._

_“The reason for Tomlinson’s resignation is private, and he wishes to not publicly discuss it further,” the short press release states._

_Tomlinson sends his apologies to his electors and party. The press release also states that Tomlinson will resign from all his tasks within the parliament from this day on, which means he will not take part in the vote on the new marriage law. This is peculiar, because Tomlinson has been known as an adamant objector to same-sex marriage._

_All in all, the shortness and the assertive tone of the press release leave a lot of question marks, even more so, because Tomlinson has declined all queries for a comment from the man himself. However, an insider close to the soon-to-be former Minister has told The Mirror that Tomlinson’s swift departure may be stress-related._

_“[Tomlinson] has been under a lot of stress for the better part of a year. No one can go on like that forever, and he has now come to the point of burn out,” the source, who wishes to stay anonymous, tells._

_The insider lists incremental amount of work and the recent, presumably difficult, break up from Tomlinson’s long-time girlfriend **Eleanor Calder** as possible reasons behind his exhaustion that led into burn out._

_“He clearly needs some time now to sort himself out, but maybe he’ll be back in politics in a few years. Who knows,” says the insider._

_Well, that remains to be seen. The only thing we know for sure right now, is that same-sex marriage in England and Wales is one step closer to becoming reality._

 

\---

 

“Stop questioning me about it. I only came here cause I thought you’d be less of a pain in the ass than our parents,” Louis huffed out.

He was sprawled out on the couch with his head hanging off the side, and he could feel blood flowing up, pulled by the gravity, turning his face red and mind spacey. He felt the vibrations of his phone where he held it in the grip of his fingers. It was probably another text from Liam, and he wasn’t in the mood to check. He hadn’t really spoken to Liam yet, avoiding his calls and answering his texts with something vague that didn’t really suffice as an explanation.

The text couldn’t be from Harry, because Louis had finally blocked his number this morning. Harry had tried to call him multiple times after the news about his resignation broke. There had been a steady streak of text messages that Louis refused to even glance at. Despite the way he felt about Harry, he knew he couldn’t let him back into his life after the way Harry had hurt him. If Harry only cared about him as soon as he did what Harry wanted him to do, the man wasn’t worth the risk of getting his heart broken – again.

“Well, I’m your sister, not your nanny,” Lottie reasoned, her voice sounding through the flat that was empty apart from the two of them. “If you can’t even give me a solid reason, you can start cooking for yourself.”

Louis didn’t answer, concentrating on the quiet music coming from the stereos beside the TV instead.

Lottie and Tommy’s flat was so full of light that it made it feel more spacious than it actually was. The furniture was mostly white, and it made Louis wonder where Lottie got her furnishing streak from. Because he doubted Tommy, the busy med-school student boyfriend of hers, was the biggest fan of interior decorating. The thing that mattered the most to Louis, though, was that the couple had a spare room, and they were willing to accommodate Louis until the worst wave of media harassment would be over.

And maybe Louis could have just stayed in his own apartment in London. Maybe he didn’t need to come all the way to Manchester to avoid the journalists. That was just a much easier excuse than having to admit to himself that he was actually looking for a way to avoid his _friends_ without having to be completely alone. Because the journalists didn’t probably even know where he lived, but his friends sure did. And he wasn’t ready to explain.

But he didn’t want to lie either.

It’s not like he wanted to lie to his little sister, but he was simply hoping that Lottie would have the tactfulness to leave him be. He should have known it was false hope.

He heard the oven being pushed shut in the kitchen, and then Lottie’s feet tapping on the wooden floor as she came closer, finally intruding Louis’ field of view, as she squatted down in front of his face that was still hanging upside down.

“So was it really burn out like they said?” she asked, twirling a wisp of platinum blonde hair between her fingertips.

Her tone wasn’t as accusatory as before, but it didn’t sound like she believed in the burn out story either. She sounded like she was just curious, maybe hoping that she could be the person Louis could trust with his secrets.

But telling Lottie would mean that he would have to tell their parents. He couldn’t ask Lottie to keep things from them.

“No, it wasn’t that,” Louis said.

The story about stress had been something that Jesy had come up with and fed to the media. Louis had had to tell Jesy the real reason behind his resignation, but Jesy had sworn to not tell anyone about it, not even Liam. Louis felt a little bad about the position he had put Liam in by suddenly putting an end to his career in politics, but he knew Liam had already landed himself a new job in his father’s law company, so the damage to their friendship probably wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

“And it wasn’t the break up with Eleanor, was it? You wouldn’t quit your job because of a girl,” Lottie said, a small amused smile on her face.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Louis answered and smiled back.

Yeah, not for a girl. For a boy, though…

“You’re not in any trouble, are you?” Lottie asked, her smile fading into a worried frown.

“No, it’s not anything like that,” Louis reassured her. “I just can’t… I can’t explain it, you know? It has more to do with a shift in personal conviction than anything else.”

“What does that even mean? You suddenly stopped believing in God or something?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just difficult to explain, that’s all.”

“So it’s just something you don’t want mum and dad to know?” Lottie asked.

She was a clever girl.

“Yeah,” Louis admitted. “It’s not like I don’t _want_ them to know, and not like I don’t want to be honest to _you_ , my favourite sister-“

“Ha ha,” Lottie chuckled dryly, since she was his _only_ sister.

“-but I just can’t go through that right now. So like, everything is fine, but telling them just isn’t going to help. And I thought about going back home, but this is better, cause now I’m close enough to visit them, but far enough that I don’t have to go there every day. And I’ll go back to London soon enough, so you don’t have to worry about me wanting to parasitize here forever, either.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Lottie said and petted his hair. “Your face is quite red.”

Louis rearranged himself into a position where his head was on a pillow, but he could still see Lottie.

“What are you worried about then?” Louis asked.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know just how perceptive Lottie really was, but he could see the questions burning on her tongue. The way her head was tilted told him that she wasn’t done with him yet.

“Well, you said everything’s fine, but I know that isn’t true. Not just because you walked out of the parliament, but because I know you. And I can see that something happened. You don’t have to tell me what, if you don’t want to. We can talk about it later, or whenever. Just- know I’m here. And I love you.”

Her voice trembled a little on the last syllable, and then she surged to hug him awkwardly over the armrest of the couch, burying her face in his shoulder. It wasn’t an everyday thing for them to say the three words out loud. It was just kind of something they both always knew.

“Love you too, Lotts. Love you too.”

 

\---

 

When Louis stepped into the pub, he let his gaze wander around nervously. He was half expecting Liam to jump from behind some table and demand an explanation for everything that had happened in the last month and a half. It’s not like Liam would normally be that dramatic, but he might react differently to being let down this badly.

“Stop worrying,” Jesy said, grabbing Louis’ arm and pulling him towards the bar counter. “Let’s just get us something to drink and take it step by step.”

Louis sighed and followed her.

He had been back in London for over a month, but so far Jesy was the only person he had seen face to face. He knew that explaining himself to Liam was long overdue, and the more he put it off, the more difficult it felt. Now that he had finally managed to arrange a meeting with the lad, he had decided to invite Eleanor to join them, too. He felt like he owed some kind of an explanation to her as well. A better one than he put together back when he left her. Besides, if Louis wanted to stay friends with Liam, he would probably have to see Eleanor in the future, because she was friends with Liam and Sophia. Just because they weren’t together anymore, it didn’t mean that Louis could just wipe her out of his life.

But the thing is, he was a lot more scared to face Liam than Eleanor. He was pretty sure that Eleanor was actually easy-going enough to accept Louis’ explanation with a shrug of her shoulders and a laugh, whereas he didn’t have a clue what Liam’s reaction would be. Liam might hate him. But at least he had Jesy there to stand up for him, if Liam and Eleanor would decide to team up against him.

While Jesy ordered their beers, Louis spotted Liam and Eleanor sitting in one of the booths at the back of the pub, facing each other. They looked a bit out of place in the shadowy corner, both dressed in their business attire, perched on the leather-covered seats and sipping on their pints.

Jesy handed Louis his beer and glanced at him as if to check that he wasn’t about to faint or something. He raised his eyebrows at her, coughing into his fist. He was totally fine. Totally, completely fine. Just a little scared that he might be on his way to ruin his most valued friendship, as well as maybe his whole life. If he hadn’t done that already.

At least he still had enough sense in him to slip a few bills across the counter to the bartender before Jesy had time to find her wallet. Paying for her drink was the least he could do to make up for the trouble he had dragged Jesy through.

“It’s going to be fine,” Jesy told him in a sing-song voice, ignoring his attempt of being a gentleman.

Louis wondered briefly if she was psychic or if his face was just so easy to read. Then he took a deep breath and started making his way through the tables towards where Liam and Eleanor were sitting.

There weren’t that many people at the pub, so Liam and Eleanor had clearly spotted Louis and Jesy already, but they were conversing quietly between themselves all until Louis was just a few feet away. Then they stopped and turned to look at him. Eleanor sent him a little smile, and he considered it a good sign. But a glance at Liam’s face told him that he wasn’t quite off the hook yet. Liam was frowning a bit, not in an angry way, but more like he was just worried and maybe a bit hurt.

It made Louis feel guilty, but that wasn’t anything he hadn’t been able to predict.

“Hi,” he said as he sat down next to Eleanor.

Jesy climbed into the booth and sat down on the opposite side of the table, as Eleanor and Liam greeted them.

“Long time no see,” Liam muttered, his voice calculating.

“I know, I know,” Louis said sheepishly and let his gaze fall to the surface of the table.

For a moment they were all quiet, just listening to the clinking of glasses and chatter from other tables. The television on the wall cast a changing light on the polished table top, and Louis watched as the colours flickered and changed into others. Then Eleanor cleared her throat.

“How have you been?” she asked.

For a moment Louis considered lying, just like people usually did when asked that question. It was only small talk, after all. But then he just sighed and let his shoulders lump.

“I’m okay, considering the situation,” he said.

He was thinking of how casually he was dressed compared to everyone else in the table. His denim shirt and black jeans didn’t exactly scream success and importance. He didn’t have a career anymore, no image to uphold. Of course all of that was just secondary, but he couldn’t keep his thoughts from wandering. He made the mistake of glancing at Liam’s face right when Liam was checking out his outfit and probably thinking about the same thing.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping in touch. I’ve just been waiting for things to cool down a bit,” Louis hurried to add, before he’d chicken out from apologizing.

“I guess that’s understandable,” Liam said, nodding his head. “You could have answered my calls, though.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Louis said, trying to read Liam’s expression. “I figured it was easier to avoid talking about difficult things if I only answered the texts. But I’m ready to talk now.”

“It’s fine, really,” Liam said, probably sensing Louis’ desperation to be forgiven. “I’m just still a bit confused about what happened. I’m working in my Dad’s company now, you know. I guess I was always going to end up there anyway, eventually. It just happened a bit sooner than I expected.”

Louis nodded, relieved that everything was still going well for Liam. He sipped his beer to push off the inevitable for a little while longer. He knew everyone in the table was expecting him to start explaining himself, even though no one said it out loud.

“So… You both know I didn’t ask you here just to chat. There’s something I think you, as my friends, deserve to know,” Louis told them. “Jesy knows about it already, cause I kind of had to tell her when she helped me to sort this out with the media circus and stuff.”

He let his gaze wander between Liam and Eleanor, trying to predict how they would react to what he was about to tell them. They both just seemed a bit confused, though, and Liam gestured for him to go on.

“So I’m just gonna say it,” Louis decided out loud.

He took a deep calming breath, and Jesy leaned across the table to squeeze his hand briefly, flashing him an encouraging smile. Liam and Eleanor glanced at each other as if they were both trying to figure out if the other had any clue of what Louis was going on about.

“Liam, you remember when you thought I was texting some girl?” Louis asked and turned to Eleanor to add, “This all happened after we had already broken up.”

“Yeah, I remember, what about it?” Liam asked.

“Well, there wasn’t any girl. There was a boy, though.”

He could feel the blood rushing into his head, his heart beating fast. It almost felt like he wasn’t there, like he was just following the situation from beside himself. For a moment everything was blurry to him.

“Wait, you mean like, in a romantic sense?” Liam asked then.

Eleanor’s hand flew up to cover her mouth and her eyes were wide as saucers.

“Yes, in a romantic sense.”

“Oh.”

In that moment Louis was hoping that Jesy would jump into his rescue, but the woman didn’t seem to have anything to say. Neither did Liam or Eleanor. Liam just stared at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Maybe there was a hint of shock, but mostly it just seemed like Liam was yet to decide how he should react to this.

Eleanor, on the other hand, composed herself sooner. She put her hand back down into her lap and gasped as if she had only just realized something surprising. But then the initial shock disappeared from her expression.

“Have I met him?” she turned to ask Louis.

Louis was taken back by how fast she had figured this out. Either he was being paranoid again, or there was a knowing blink in Eleanor’s eyes screaming Harry’s name.

Louis hadn’t really thought this situation out well enough. He hadn’t decided beforehand whether he should tell them that the man he had been seeing was Harry. He had just thought that he’d proceed according to what their reaction would be. Eleanor didn’t seem to be too fazed by his confession, though, and Liam… Well, at least Liam hadn’t yet cursed him into hell and left. Things could be worse.

Louis decided to put all his cards on the table, for once.

“Yeah, you met him when you last came by my place.”

“I knew it!” Eleanor cried out. “I had a feeling he wasn’t there just for a casual visit. Louis, I’m happy for you, but this is really absurd.”

There was laughter in her voice, but it didn’t sound spiteful at all. She sounded like she was genuinely happy for him, and happy that he finally came clean. She was probably under the impression that Louis and Harry were still seeing each other, though.

“That’s what I thought too, when it happened. But we’re not actually a couple or anything. He helped me to figure out some things, but that’s all it was. It ended kind of badly,” Louis confessed.

The corners of Eleanor’s mouth dropped and she put a reassuring hand on Louis' shoulder.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Excuse me, but can somebody tell me who we’re even talking about?” Liam exclaimed from the other side of the table, having been ignored throughout their conversation.

“Um… Harry Styles?” Louis said, and somehow it came out as a question.

Liam’s jaw dropped open and he planted his palms on the table, leaning forward.

“Wait. ‘Middle school mortal enemies’? Was that about Louis and Styles? Did you know about this back then?” Liam demanded to know in a strangely high-pitched voice, turning to Jesy.

“No, don’t be silly. I only found out the week after that, when Louis decided to quit. And don’t act like you didn’t know they went to the same school. That’s hardly news anymore,” Jesy told him, tilting her head challengingly.

Louis was ready to take a good yelling from Liam if that would solve their problems, but Jesy’s patience was clearly wearing thin already.

“I just can’t wrap my mind around how this happened,” Liam said, shaking his head and turning back to Louis.

“I don’t know what to say to you. How do these things usually happen?” Louis shrugged. “We started talking and then things just happened. I love him, though he doesn’t love me. But it doesn’t matter, the point is that it doesn’t change who I am, and in this situation leaving the parliament was the only thing I could do, if I didn’t want to live in a lie.”

There was a pause in the conversation, as Liam was thinking Louis’ words over, and Louis was anxiously waiting for his answer. Eleanor was awkwardly staring at a wall, and Jesy took a long sip of her beer with her head bowed. Both girls seemed to want to act as if they weren’t listening.

“I guess that was the most honest thing to do,” Liam finally complied. “I can’t claim to fully understand you, but you’re my friend. Even if I’m probably not reacting in the best way, don’t think that I wouldn’t still have your back.”

“So… You don’t care that… I like men?”

“Louis, I never had anything against gays in particular,” Liam said, leaning further over the table and gently slapping Louis’ arm. “I may not fully understand their urge to get married, because I truly believe that marriage, the way it is in the Christian religion, is meant to be between a man and a woman, but I’m not telling anyone they can’t love who they love. So, if you love Harry, you’re free to do so. And if you want to marry a guy one day, I’ll try my best to understand it. And by the way, are you really sure that Harry doesn’t love you back or was that just one of those gut feelings of yours? Cause they’ve led you astray before.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Eleanor cut in to say. “He seemed to really like you when I met him.”

Louis shook his head.

“No, it was just… You don’t know what happened,” Louis said.

He buried his face in this palms when he realized that he didn’t really want to tell his friends how Harry had fucked him over. He was trying to protect Harry from the wrath of his friends even though their thing was over. Maybe he just didn’t want to give his friends reasons to think that he shouldn’t feel the way he felt about Harry. He didn’t need anyone to tell him that it was the most irrational thing he had done in his life.

Apparently his friends thought that he was going to cry, because Eleanor surged to hug her and Jesy reached out to squeeze his forearms. Even Liam leaned over to pat his shoulder.

Louis quickly raised his head from his hands and shook them off.

“I’m fine, seriously,” he assured them. “But like I said, it’s one-sided. And it’s over.”

“That’s so sad,” Eleanor cooed woefully. “You two would have been so cute.”

“No, but just think about it; I’ve been standing against everything he stands for. How would it look if we were together? And how could he really like me after that? There’s just no way it’d ever work.”

It was a bit surprising to Louis how fast they had moved over the part where he came out and onto the part where they started discussing his (inexistent) love life. Even though he had been too scared to ponder too much over how this conversation might progress, he would have never thought that it would be this easy. It was totally understandable to him that Liam still seemed a bit puzzled, despite how the man had insisted that he was okay with this. Of course it was a surprising situation for them all, and honestly, it could have played out in a _much_ worse way.

From there on the conversation flowed without a hitch, and even though Louis’ friends clearly felt sorry for him because of his failed relationship with Harry, they moved onto other topics quite soon, probably trying to take Louis’ mind off of the sad things. And maybe they were also trying to give Louis some time to breathe and process the stressful situation he had just been in. After all, he basically just came out to his friends for the first time without it being a situation where he _had to_. This had been fully his own choice, and he felt relieved that it had gone so well.

After a little while Louis and Jesy switched seats so that Jesy and Eleanor could better concentrate on their discussion on some reality show they both watched. Louis and Liam had never even heard of it, so they were unable to participate.

Instead, Liam turned to Louis and said: “Have you thought about what you’ll do now?”

Louis shook his head and rolled the cold glass of beer between his palms against the table.

“I mean, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble finding a job. I do have a degree. I just haven’t started looking yet.”

“Well, if you’re interested, one of the lawyers in Dad’s company is about to go on maternity leave, and we haven’t found replacement for her yet. She’s one of the best ones, too, so Dad’s looking for someone who has the expertise to fill her shoes. I’m pretty sure you’d get hired if you applied.”

“Really?” Louis asked and turned his surprised gaze to Liam.

He hadn’t expected Liam to prompt him to apply to work at the same company where he was, even though it would be kind of ideal to continue working with his best friend despite everything else that had changed. To be honest, he had thought that his confession of being into men would affect their friendship more than Liam let on. But maybe it wouldn’t.

“Yes, why not?” Liam shrugged, then laughing: “And I can always put in a good word for you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Louis smiled. “Don’t say anything to your Dad, though. I don’t want him to turn me down just cause it’d look like you affected his decision if he hired me.”

“Well, he already hired me, so if there’s going to be any accusations of nepotism, I think we’ve passed that line already,” Liam mused.

“You could have gotten a job at any company, though. It just wouldn’t have made sense to go for anything other than your Dad’s. Would put you in a bit of a complicated position if you were working for a rival company.”

“That’s true. And it’s sweet that you believe in my abilities,” Liam grinned.

“Well, I wouldn’t have hired you in the first place if I didn’t.”

With how easy talking to Liam still was, Louis was more and more convinced that Liam had actually been sincere when he said he would still have Louis’ back no matter what. It was relieving, because if there was any kind of strain left between them, Louis wouldn’t be able to work with him in the future. Working at Liam’s Dad’s company was probably one of the best possibilities Louis had right now. Obviously it wouldn’t work out, if he’d have to deal with constant awkwardness between him and Liam, but now it seemed like there would be none.

 

\---

 

When Louis found himself watching Titanic for the sixth time in the span of three months, he realized he had a problem.

He didn’t know why that was the movie that stuck with him. He had watched numerous movies with Harry, and most of them had ended with some rather exciting under-blanket action, much differently compared to the awkward disagreement that clouded their time watching Titanic. However, that night seemed to be the one that Louis’ thoughts wandered back to, again and again.

He remembered so clearly how he had been swallowed by panic, when he was sure that Harry was pretending to be sleeping, ignoring him on purpose. He remembered how hard it had been to breathe with the grief of losing Harry ripping his chest open even before it had happened. And he remembered the relief that had washed over him, when it became clear that Harry wasn’t going anywhere.

There was a what-if -part in his brain. Of course there was.

Despite the fact that he often had radical opinions, he had learned to look at things in a way that didn’t allow him to just discard all other options, even if he was almost hundred percent sure that he was right. So of course even now that he had decided that it was time to get over Harry, there was a part of his mind that kept going back to the way Harry had looked at him, talked to him, touched him. And that part kept asking _what if_.

He knew it was stupid. He knew it was irrational. By all indicators, Harry’s motivation behind spending time with him had never been pure or honest. He was just good at acting, good at putting people under his spell.

But knowing all of this didn’t stop that little part of his brain from dreaming. In fact, Louis was quite sure that the same part that was now telling him that Harry might have really cared about him, was the part that had earlier told him not to trust the man. How ironic.

To keep himself from having too much time to think about this, Louis had taken the job at Liam’s father’s company. And as soon as he started working there, he had jumped at the chance to work on international cases that required him to travel between London and various cities in the States. He didn’t mind being away from London. Honestly, he had nothing in London, except for his friends, and he knew that his friendships were the kind that could handle the distance. Besides, it’s not like his visits to the States were ever long.

The traveling didn’t keep him from watching movies, though. And even though he was becoming quite bored of the love story of Jack and Rose, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from returning to watch it time after time.

This little problem of his was the main reason why he scheduled a meeting with Liam right after he came back from New York. The jetlag was fucking with his head, but he was already kind of used to irregular sleeping schedules, so he just ignored the tiredness he felt and hopped onto the Piccadilly line train that would take him to Leicester Square, where they had agreed to meet.

It was set as their meeting spot, because that way neither one of them would have to switch trains on the way. Besides, they would only have to walk a few hundred feet to get to Soho and find some nice place to have lunch. Undoubtedly, the streets would be churning with tourists on these afternoon hours, but weren’t they always? Having lived in London for over ten years, Louis was quite used to that.

In the train he stared out of the window, as the black walls of the metro tunnel passed by. He let his mind wander back to what had happened a couple of weeks ago. It was the only time he had been in any contact to Harry after their ways separated in July. And it didn’t have to mean anything. It was more than likely to not mean anything at all, so Louis had tried to forget it.

But now, in his bored state, waiting for the train to reach his destination, he let his mind slip.

He had been sitting in his hotel room in New York, mindlessly watching the television, just about to go to bed. But then his phone had rung, an unfamiliar number showing on the screen. He had answered it without thinking too much of it, because he wasn’t sure what time it was in England, so he had just expected it to be something work related.

Turns out it wasn’t.

He had recognized Harry’s voice immediately, as if it hadn’t been months since he last heard it. It was also quite distinct that the man was drunk, slurring his words, all of which didn’t really form any intelligible sentences. Harry had demanded to know if he was speaking to Louis.

“Yes, it’s me,” Louis had said in an expectant tone, unsure of why Harry would be calling him, even if it was just a drunk dial.

Then Harry had proceeded to calling him a jerk, multiple times at that.

“Fucking miss you, Lou. Miss your face, you’re so pretty. Why’re you such a jerk?” Harry had slurred.

There had been some unrecognizable background noise that swallowed a part of Harry’s words. Louis was pretty sure that Harry was at a club, because it sounded like there was a heavy beat coming from somewhere close to him.

Louis had just held the phone to his ear without knowing what to say. And before Harry could say much more, there was another familiar voice coming through, sounding even more muddled than Harry’s.

“Harry, who are you calling? You can’t – give me that -,” had been all that Louis had heard Niall say, before there had been some rustling, and then the beep that signalled the call had ended.

Louis had spent all night lying awake and wondering what the call meant, if Harry actually cared about him, after all, or if he just felt the need to tell Louis that he was a jerk. Harry had had to deliberately copy Louis’ phone number from his phone into Niall’s in order to get his call to go through. If he hadn’t been too drunk to do that, he couldn’t have been too drunk to know what he was saying when he made the call. It’s just that everything he had said was completely contradictory.

Even though Louis was pretty sure that this whole drunk dial incident didn’t mean anything other than that Harry had finally found a way to reach out to Louis and insult him, it didn’t help Louis shut down the what-if -part of his brain. Quite the opposite.

Just one more reason to consult with Liam.

 

\---

 

“But you don’t understand. His main point was that I’m apparently a jerk. He doesn’t want me back,” Louis tried to explain to Liam.

Over the last couple of months he had ended up telling Liam pretty much the whole story of how things had played out between him and Harry. Maybe he hadn’t specified all the details that much, but every now and then he just slipped out something about Harry, and it was enough for Liam to fill in the blanks. By this point Liam even knew about how Harry had actually just been with Louis to affect the vote, but unlike Louis, Liam wasn’t convinced that Harry didn’t have any feelings for Louis.

“Did he actually ever say that in so many words, though?” Liam asked between bites.

They were sitting in one of the coffee shops on Firth Street. All those little restaurants looked the same to Louis, but Liam seemed to know which places were good and which ones weren’t, so Louis had decided to just tag along.

“Well… No, but it was implied. You know what, you’re not helping. I only told you about the drunk dial so you could tell me that it doesn’t mean anything. You’re _really_ not helping,” Louis groaned, leaning his elbows on the table despite knowing what a rude manner it was.

“But you said he texted you after you resigned. You can only blame yourself for not reading those messages and blocking his number. He could have been confessing his love to you and you’d just never know. No wonder why he now thinks you’re a jerk,” Liam pointed out.

“You’re still not helping,” Louis sighed. “I’d check those messages now just to prove you wrong, but I’ve deleted everything.”

Liam gave him a look full of sympathy.

“Besides, it’s not that simple,” Louis went on. “He can’t just start texting me as soon as I do what he wanted me to do. It doesn’t work like that. He’s either in or he’s out. He can’t just suddenly change his mind. And I’m not saying that he changed his mind, I’m just speaking _hypothetically_.”

“Sure,” Liam commented and rolled his eyes.

“You could be a little more supportive, you know.”

Liam was probably just trying to make Louis feel better about himself by acting as if it was a possibility that Harry really had feelings for him. But Louis knew that at this point he should just concentrate on forgetting Harry and moving on.

Suddenly Liam seemed to be choking on his food. He coughed, gaze glued to a spot somewhere behind Louis’ back.

“Are you alright?” Louis questioned, to which Liam rapidly nodded his head.

“Don’t look, but Harry’s behind you,” Liam whispered, hardly moving his lips when he spoke.

Louis gave him an unimpressed look.

“You seriously think I’m going to fall for that?”

“I’m serious!” Liam hissed, leaning closer over the table. “I know it’s a far off chance, but I’m not kidding. He’s really there. He’s walking to the counter.”

Louis was starting to think that Liam might actually not be joking around with him, so he instinctively began to turn around and see for himself, but Liam whisper-yelled: “Don’t look!”

So Louis turned back to Liam.

“You’re not joking, are you? Because if you’re joking, I’ll never forgive you,” he said.

Liam shook his head and moved his gaze back to a spot behind Louis. His expression was serious.

“He’s with some other guy,” Liam said, frowning.

“What does the other guy look like?” Louis asked.

He was pretty sure it would be just Niall. The pained look on Liam’s face told a different story, though. It looked like Liam didn’t want to tell Louis. An ugly feeling swirled around in Louis’ stomach.

“Just spit it out.”

“He’s like… Dark hair and eyes,” Liam finally said.

Well, definitely not Niall, then.

“It’s someone handsome, right?” Louis asked.

He didn’t want to let jealousy take over. It’s not like he had any claim over Harry. He didn’t even have the smallest chance. But the thought of Harry being with someone else still hurt. And he knew Liam wasn’t lying, because Liam wasn’t that good of an actor. He showed his emotions on his face like he just couldn’t help it.

“Well, yeah. He looks like a fucking model,” Liam admitted.

“I’m going to look.”

“No, don’t.”

“Just a peek.”

Louis didn’t wait for Liam’s approval before he turned to look over his shoulder.

Liam hadn’t been joking. Harry was there. He was standing by the counter, talking to the barista. He looked good. Louis’ memories of him were just shallow ghosts of the real thing.

Before Louis had really known Harry, before he had touched him, he had always been the most intrigued by his pink lips and his curls. Those had been the things that he noticed the most. But now he found himself paying attention on other things, too. Things like the dip above his collarbones that peaked out from under his open jacket, the shape of his jaw as it jutted out, and the knuckles of his fingers, the same fingers that used to graze Louis’ skin in the gentlest way he had ever felt.

Louis felt like it was unfair that he had to run into Harry. It made no sense. There was no point. Especially not now that there was this gorgeous dark-featured man standing beside Harry with his chocolate brown eyes, chiselled cheekbones and effortlessly cool clothes. The man laughed at something Harry said and placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Louis turned back to Liam.

“They’re probably just mates,” Liam shrugged.

He couldn’t have been more unconvincing if he tried.

“Oh, now he noticed me,” Liam whispered and turned his gaze away from where Harry was standing.

Liam really wasn’t a very good actor. He was clearly trying to act as if nothing was going on, trying to turn invisible, but he managed to make it look so awkwardly obvious that it probably just drew more attention to him.

Louis felt his back stiffen, as he fought against the urge to turn his head and steal just one more glimpse of Harry. He didn’t know when he would see the man again, if ever. But on the other hand, if he were to turn around now, Harry would probably see and recognize him, if he hadn’t already.

“Does he look like he recognized you?” Louis asked quietly.

“No, I don’t think he knows who I am. We never officially met,” Liam said. “But um… He’s looking at you.”

“Me?” Louis whisper-shrieked.

“Yes, I think he recognized you.”

“Don’t look at him! We don’t need to attract any more attention.”

“But Louis, he saw you already.”

“No, he can’t recognize me from the back of my head. I’ve cut my hair,” Louis argued.

“I guess you’re right. He turned away,” Liam said, sounding relieved, but also a little bit disappointed. “They got take-away coffee. They’re walking to the door now.”

Louis took in a deep breath and let himself relax. He had been strangely unmoving the whole time Harry had been there. His feeling of relief was mixed with the bitter echo of disappointment. Maybe he just wished that he could have looked at Harry longer. Of course the ideal situation would be one where he wouldn’t have to hide from Harry, wouldn’t have to be scared of being recognized. He’d give so much just to be able to exchange a couple of words with the man, a smile maybe. He’d give so much just to be able to look at him.

Instead, he directed his gaze out of the window they were sitting by. He concentrated on the small raindrops that hit the window glass and slowly slid down, leaving vertical stripes on the glass.

There were people walking on the pavement, but Louis didn’t pay them attention, not until a familiar face passed him. Right on the other side of the glass, probably less than three feet away from Louis, Harry stopped and turned to look in through the window. His green eyes were widened, like he hadn’t really expected to see Louis there when he turned to check. Louis heart was beating in his throat and he found himself unable to turn his gaze away.

The stripes of the falling rain painted their mural between them, and it felt like the longest second of Louis’ life.

Then Harry hurriedly turned away and said something to the handsome guy, who already looked confused about why they had stopped. The guy raised his brows and nodded, and then Harry rushed back to the direction they had come from.

The handsome guy took a brief glance at Louis through the window, but then he just walked away, sipping his coffee.

“Oh, he’s coming back,” Liam commented in a voice that was drained of colour. “Reckon he might want to stress his point of you being a jerk?”

“This is no time for jokes!” Louis chided.

His hands were sweating. He had no idea what to expect.

Then Harry was there, halting to a stop next to him with a breathless gasp. He looked lovely as ever, hair a little damp from being in the rain and cheeks a rosy red, either from the wind outside, or his hurry to get back inside.

“Louis,” he simply said, the rasp of his voice draping Louis in its warm familiarity.

“Harry,” Louis answered, unsure of where this would lead them.

For a moment they just stared at each other, and Louis felt like they were drinking in each other’s appearances, savouring their moment of reunion. Or maybe it was just Louis. He didn’t know what Harry wanted from him, and he couldn’t really think properly, overwhelmed by Harry’s sudden presence. But there was one thing that he knew for certain: he wasn’t going to waste this.

“You’re wearing my hoodie,” Harry then said.

That had Liam almost bursting out the water he had just sipped. Louis felt heat rising to his cheeks. He looked down at his clothes as if he hadn’t realized that the hoodie was Harry’s. He hadn’t really thought about it when he pulled it on, but yeah, he sometimes wore some of the clothes Harry had left at his place. What’s the big deal?

“Yeah...? Do you want it back?”

Harry tilted his head.

“No,” he said. “No, I just- Can we talk? Do you have a moment?”

“I was just about to leave anyway!” Liam announced from the other side of the table, haphazardly wiping his mouth on the napkin even though he still had about half of his meal left.

“I’m Harry,” Harry introduced himself, offering Liam his hand.

“Liam,” Liam said as he shook Harry’s hand and rushed to get up from the table.

“Oh, you’re Liam.”

“Yes, that’s me. But that’s enough about me. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about,” Liam said cheerily.

Louis was sending pleading looks Liam’s way, but Liam pretended not to notice it. He just pulled his jacket on and said his goodbyes to them before walking away. What a horrible friend.

“I guess we can talk,” Louis sighed after another pregnant pause in the conversation.

“Do you want to finish that or go somewhere else?” Harry asked, his gaze swiping across Louis’ face nervously as if he was trying to prepare himself for all the possible reactions.

“I’m pretty much finished,” Louis said and set his cutlery to five o’clock.

As he stood up, he took a wary glance around the coffee shop, checking if anyone was paying them more attention than what could have been considered normal. He may not be working in a public position anymore, but he still wasn’t quite old enough news so that people wouldn’t recognize him. And even though he came out to his closest friends, he still wasn’t properly _out_. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be. It was still a scary thought to have everyone judge him based on all the stereotypes. For the moment being he was alright with how things were. Sure it was a bit difficult to lie to his parents about the reasons behind his resigning from the parliament, but it was hell of a lot easier to say he had been stressed out than to declare that he liked men.

But if he were to tell his parents the truth someday, he would want to do it himself, not have them find out through a second-hand source. And that’s why he had to be careful not to give fuel to any rumours.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Louis asked when they had walked in silence for a moment.

He didn’t even have to pretend to be more ignorant than he was, because he honestly had no idea why Harry bothered to put his time on this. Despite what arguments the what-if part of Louis’ brain might have had in store, he really felt clueless about what was happening. And the silence wasn’t helping. It only made him question everything that much more. It was a pressuring kind of silence, not one that he was used to experiencing with Harry. So he had to break it, before it would break _him_.

They were just about to reach Soho Square and Louis didn’t know where exactly they were going, but he decided to follow Harry’s lead. Considering that it was a Saturday, there were surprisingly few people out and about on the streets. Maybe it was because of the rain, even though by this point the rain was nothing more than a small dribble that wouldn’t really wet you. To Louis the lack of curious onlookers was a relief. The situation was intimidating enough even without a crowd of witnesses.

Harry sighed.

“There’s so much,” he said. “But first of all, just to get it out of the way, I’m really sorry about that time when, you know, I called you in the middle of the night, drunk off my head.”

Louis bit his lower lip and took a careful side-glance at Harry, as they rounded the small enclosed square from its left side. Maybe Harry was just embarrassed about the drunk dial. Or maybe all he really wanted was… closure. And maybe that’s why he was so eager to talk to Louis that he would sink to the level of calling him on the sloshed hours of early morning from his friend’s phone.

Louis didn’t want closure. He wanted to kiss Harry so badly that his lips tingled with it. The feeling was burning all through to his heart, but all his fears squished it down and settled over him like an armour that would guard him from embarrassing himself.

“It’s okay, I get it. It was quite clear that you were drunk, so I didn’t take it personally,” Louis said, turning his gaze down to the glistening pavement and letting the corners of his mouth curl into a self-deprecating smile.

Harry stopped walking abruptly and grabbed Louis’ arm to stop him too. Raising his brows, Louis risked a glance at Harry’s face. Harry’s frown looked troubled, but Louis didn’t know why. Everything was confusing.

“Maybe you should have, though,” Harry said, his voice a mix of anger and… disappointment? “Do you think people just call someone without any reason when they’re drunk? For all the time you spend talking about logic and reason you must be really fucking thick. I was so fucking mad at you!”

Harry bent his neck back and sent a humourless laugh towards the clouds that had almost completely stopped raining down over them. Louis wasn’t sure what Harry was laughing at. He wasn’t sure of much anything by this point.

“What do you mean?” he asked and shook his arm out of Harry’s grip.

The physical contact felt awkward, because it only made it harder for Louis’ brain to co-operate with him. It sent an electric shiver through his body, focusing all his attention to the point where they were touching each other.

“What I’m trying to say is that I was so convinced that you cared about me,” Harry huffed out, boring his gaze into Louis’ eyes. “I told myself that you just needed time or that you just wanted to sort out your work situation and then you’d come back and say you’re sorry and- I don’t know what I was thinking, and maybe I’m just being bitter now, but I can’t just… At least tell me what I did so _wrong_ that you couldn’t even answer my texts - you never even bothered to let me down easy.”

Harry’s monologue was fast paced and the further he got, the more his eyes were gleaming with unshed tears. Louis felt his own eyes widening, but he was unable to swipe the shock from his face and pretend that none of this got to him.

No one cries for things they don’t care about. Despite the intricate flood of Harry’s words, Louis got the general idea. And he knew he had messed up big time. The realization stung deep like a stab of an icepick into his heart. Harry seemed so _hurt_ , and Louis couldn’t take it. He didn’t know if anything he could do or say would help, but at least he’d have to try.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Louis said in his most convincing tone of voice, and it wasn’t even hard to find, because every word he was saying was true. “You weren’t wrong to think that I cared about you. More than anything. And I still do. I was just scared. I was just a coward and a liar and I don’t think that’s news to anyone. You had all the right to think I’m a complete jerk. I just- I wished I could have taken the easy road, but… maybe there’s no easy road for me. Not in the situation I’ve put myself into.”

He shrugged and dropped his gaze, too scared to see what Harry’s reaction to his words would be. He didn’t know what more to say. There were so many things that Harry should know, but Louis’ mind was whirring itself into a jumbled mess. At least he got the most important thing out, the fact that he cared about Harry. Because Harry should never have to question his self-worth, especially not if Louis could do anything about it.

“So… It was all an act when you left me?” Harry asked, his voice confused.

“No,” Louis said, daring a glance at Harry, who was wiping a hand across his cheek. “I genuinely thought you just wanted to affect my politics. It felt so unrealistic that there’d be any chance of you being with me for real, so I concentrated on letting _myself_ down easy. I probably should have handled it differently.”

Harry tilted his head. There wasn’t anger in his eyes anymore, just something gentle and understanding, something that spread a warm feeling over Louis. As much as he didn’t want to let the sparks of hope light up a fire that would consume him if this still wouldn’t end up working out, he felt a lot more hopeful than just a moment ago. The peaceful look on Harry’s face just wiped away all the dread that had been weighing down on Louis ever since he let the man walk out of his life.

“I would _never_ play with someone’s feelings like that. And if you’re being realistic, would it even be logical to think that I’d see the effort to affect you? After all, even if you’d decided to vote differently because of me, it’s still just one vote,” Harry said. “I was with you because I liked you. And I wanted to understand you. And I guess I wanted to help you, too. Even if it’s something I couldn’t do. And now that I think of it, it makes sense why you doubted me, and I should have realized that. It’s just that… I get hurt, too.”

“Fuck,” Louis sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t realize that that’s exactly what I was doing by trying so hard to protect myself. You’ve literally done nothing wrong, Harry.”

Harry looked into his eyes as if he was searching for something, maybe for signs of dishonesty, like Louis might just be saying these things to get himself out of an awkward situation. But then Harry nodded and reached his hand out. He grabbed Louis’ hand without asking for permission and started dragging him onwards.

“Maybe we should talk more somewhere other than in the middle of the street,” Harry said, sniggering at the end of his sentence, mirth lighting up his eyes.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

Louis felt flustered, and all they were doing was _holding hands_. But they were in public and anyone could see them. He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, but he didn’t want to give up the soft grip of Harry’s long fingers. It felt right, so he didn’t even think to protest.

 

\---

 

Harry let go of Louis’ hand when they reached the busier streets, where there was a bigger chance of someone seeing and recognizing them. Louis assumed that Harry just didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.

They were heading for the Tottenham Court Road station with the intention to take the tube to Louis’ apartment, where they could talk more privately.  There was a tingling anticipation surrounding them as they walked to the station side by side. Louis stole glances at Harry’s face from time to time, trying to interpret where this was going, because he still didn’t quite feel like he should let his guard down and trust that he wouldn’t get his heart broken yet again.

On the other hand, by now Louis had realized that he had treated Harry really badly, and the misunderstanding between them had probably hurt Harry just as much as it hurt him, if not more. So maybe Harry was feeling cautious and unsure, just like Louis.

“We’re going the wrong way,” Louis pointed out confusedly, when Harry pulled him to the direction of the Central line platforms. “We just passed the escalator to Northern.”

“Let’s take the long way,” Harry grinned at him.

“But why?” Louis questioned.

“Just for fun,” Harry shrugged when they stepped onto the escalator that led down to the platform.

He turned around to look at Louis, and as he was standing one step below him, Louis was for once experiencing what it’d be like to be taller than Harry.

“When’s the last time you took Central? I bet it’s been a while,” Harry said, as busier people rushed past them from the left side of the steps.

“What’s so special about Central line?” Louis answered with another question.

“Nothing. It’s just an exploration. Spice up your life,” Harry said, a smile spreading on his face.

“Seriously? Spice Girls references? You’re going to be the end of me,” Louis commented, giving Harry an unimpressed look. “You’re going to fall on your arse, by the way.”

Harry stumbled backwards as the escalator came to an end, still a grin on his face. He didn’t fall, just kept walking backwards, ruffling his own hair which was still a little damp from the rain earlier. He glanced at Louis mischievously before turning around and sprinting off.

Louis grinned to himself, but refused to act like a child and run after Harry. He felt giddy on the feeling that they were still able to joke and tease each other, good-naturedly get on each other’s nerves just like they used to, in spite of all the uncertainty. He wanted the gentleness and the cuddles and the sex, but he felt like none of that would be quite real and natural between them, if they’d have to circle around each other, fear each other’s reactions and be afraid that something they’d want to do or say might cross an unspoken boundary.

And maybe it was too early to think about cuddles or sex, anyway. Louis was clearly getting ahead of himself.

He reached Harry on the platform right when a train came. They stepped in together, and as the carriage was quite full of people, neither one of them sat down. Instead they stood on different sides of the space as if they didn’t know each other. It felt easy, though, not like they were avoiding each other. There was still a small smile playing in the corners of Harry’s mouth, so Louis knew they shared the feeling.

By the time they passed Lancaster Gate most of the other passengers had filed out. Besides Louis and Harry, there was only an old couple sitting in the other end of the carriage, and a woman who looked like a proper hippie with her dreadlocks and baggy clothes and the way she was quietly humming to herself.

That’s when Louis gathered up the courage to finally move to stand next to Harry. He grabbed the same pole that Harry was holding onto and moved so that his back was turned towards the other passengers. He cleared his throat and gazed up at Harry’s piercing green eyes. Everything was quite calm, and he felt like Harry could probably read all his thoughts and feelings from his face as if he had purposely put them on display. He hadn’t, but he found it hard to hide anything from those eyes.

“You said earlier that you wanted to help me,” Louis said quietly to not be heard by anyone who this didn’t concern, even if the other passengers didn’t seem to pay them any mind. “I guess it’s easy to see why that might be thought of as a bad thing. But in this case, I don’t think it was a bad thing. And you _did_ help me, even if you didn’t realize it. Without you I’d still be in my old job pretending to be someone that I’m not and feeling suffocated by it. Maybe there was no ideal option for me, but I feel like I did the right thing. And I probably wouldn’t have realized it without you.”

“I’m glad,” Harry nodded. “I’m glad that you don’t feel like… I was forcing you into a certain direction. And now that I think of it, maybe it was good that we weren’t together when you made the big decisions. Because at least now we know that ultimately it was your own decision and I wasn’t there to affect you. You might resent me for it even if you didn’t mean to. But now…”

He reached a hand out to grasp Louis’ fingers.

“Maybe this could work out.”

The words echoed in Louis’ head. He felt a smile tugging at his lips as if on cue. He just couldn’t help it.

“Maybe it could,” he said and instinctively leaned closer until Harry tilted his head down and softly pressed their lips together.

Louis felt so lost in the kiss that he completely ignored the fact that they were in public. He reached his hand up to place it on Harry’s neck and press himself closer to the man he loved. He knew it, like he’d known for months. He loved Harry, and it was exciting, wonderful, all-encompassing, the realization that his feelings might be reciprocated, and even if they weren’t, at least he’d get to hold Harry like this for the moment being. At least he still got to do this one more time.

When the train reached the next station, they stepped apart as if they were prompted by a collective mind. But Harry’s eyes never turned away, not even when a new wave of passengers flooded in and obliviously walked between them, momentarily blocking them from looking at each other.

 

\---

 

When they arrived at Louis’ place, they ended up talking for hours. Louis made them tea and they sat in the kitchen, later moving onto the living room couch. They talked about _everything_. About the last couple of months, about Louis’ resignation, and finally about the moment it had all gone to hell between them. Louis told Harry about his conversation with Niall, and Harry said he probably wouldn’t have given up so easily if he knew just how many doubts Louis had piled behind his actions.

Harry squeezed Louis’ hand and pressed it onto his own cheek as if he needed the physical contact just as much as Louis. He couldn’t think straight when his fingers grazed the soft skin of Harry’s cheek, his mouth drying and mind going blank for the way Harry gazed at him from under his eyelashes.

“I haven’t said anything to my parents,” Louis said when he finally remembered what they were talking about. “I just told them I was too stressed, the same story we fed to the press. I feel like… it would have to be something really serious, like if I actually ended up in a serious relationship, then I’d tell them.”

“What do you think they’d say?” Harry asked, tilting his head and squirming a little closer to Louis on the couch.

“I have no idea, to be honest. I think they’d at least try to pretend to understand and accept me, no matter what, but I think they’d look at me differently, even if they tried their hardest not to.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” Harry said.

“I know them, though,” Louis shrugged and spontaneously leaned his head on Harry’s shoulder, making himself comfortable.

Harry reached his arm around Louis’ shoulders and pulled him flush to his side.

“I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Harry said quietly and pressed his face into louis’ hair.

It amazed Louis how easy everything felt, almost too easy, too good to be true. He just had never believed that things that felt this good happened outside of movies. Before the silence stretched too long, he raised his head and turned to gaze into Harry’s eyes. Harry encouraged him to go on with a smile.

“So what happens now?” Louis asked.

It felt a bit hard to breathe, his heart beating at his throat and an uncomfortable heat spreading across his chest. Maybe it was irrational to be so scared of the answer now that they had actually talked things through, but Louis just couldn’t bring himself to trust his luck. Not quite this soon.

“What do you wish to happen?” Harry asked, still smiling.

There was a gentleness to Harry’s gaze that enveloped Louis into its safety. Maybe he wasn’t ready to trust his luck, but he’d have to trust Harry, if he wanted to keep this going, whatever _this_ was. He wasn’t ready to just give up, either.

“I want you to stay. And I want to… know you. I feel like I do already, but I want to know everything. Does that sound insane?” Louis said, letting out a small burst of laughter.

“No, it makes a lot of sense,” Harry answered, leaning his face close to Louis’.

Louis’ breath hitched.

“What do _you_ wish to happen?” he whispered, his breath against Harry’s lips.

Harry’s answer came in the form of his hand taking a hold of the back of Louis’ neck, and their lips pressing together. Louis didn’t need to know sign language to figure out what that meant. He didn’t need certainty, and he didn’t need luck either. He may not have said it out loud yet, but he had love. And right now, that was enough.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might still write a short epilogue if I get motivated enough, but no promises. (btw, The Mirror was a totally random choice and Katie Page doesn't exist)
> 
> I want to thank everyone who has been reading this fic, sharing this journey with me, and giving me their support! It has been lovely. I’m @goesbyvee in twitter, come have a chat. :)
> 
> If you’re interested in more of my writing, feel free to stay tuned. However, I’ll be working on my undergraduate thesis and some original writing projects this spring/summer, so it goes without saying I’ll be quite busy and unfortunately I don’t know when/if I’ll post more fanfiction.


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